


Astute Apprentice

by 84Reesdy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Dominance, F/M, Graphic Description, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Sex, Smut, Submission, Teacher/Student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25432327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/84Reesdy/pseuds/84Reesdy
Summary: **AUTHORS NOTE (12/22/2020)**:  Taking a short break for the holidays! Will return with more chapters in 2021!Setting: Period of time between the First Wizarding War and Harry Potter's arrival at Hogwarts.Main characters:Severus Snape is the intimidating Potions master at Hogwarts. His irritation of being passed over for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is passed on to his students. But some seem to respond better to his methods than others. One in particular seems to be attracted to it.Quinn Collins is a happy and proud Hufflepuff almost finished with her 7th year.  However, her entire family of Slytherin's couldn't be more disappointed or disgusted by her house. Perhaps an apprenticeship with the head of their beloved household will change their view of her.A chance detention changes the course of Quinn's future. What all can she learn from the secretive, dark Severus Snape?
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 209





	1. Detention, Miss Collins

“Detention? DETENTION?” The howler screeched in the Hufflepuff common room, “YEARS AND YEARS OF HARD WORK AND YOU FOUL IT ALL UP YOUR SEVENTH YEAR?” The severity did not recede as the red envelope continued to spew her clearly distraught parents’ message. The rest of the common room inhabitants continued working amongst themselves as if they were oblivious to the distraction, though their rigid posture suggested otherwise. 

“COUNT YOURSELF LUCKY THAT PROFESSOR SNAPE DID NOT SEEK TO HAVE YOU EXPELLED. WE HAVE WRITTEN HIM THAT WE SUPPORT ANY AND EVERY MEASURE HE SEES FIT TO PUNISH YOU WITH.” 

Quinn wished she knew a spell to silence the powerful howler, but she was sure in such a frazzled state she’d never be able to conjure a powerful enough charm. She was sure her parents had counted on that being true. They were proud and unapologetic Slytherin’s. To say that they were dismayed that their daughter was sorted, well into any other house, was an understatement. They made that just as obvious with this letter as they did anything else. 

After another round of veiled insults and conveyed disappointment, the letter ripped itself and fluttered to the desk below. A gaggle of 6th years tried to mask their giggling in the corner as Quinn felt her cheeks burn hot in embarrassment. Why did she ever ask the sorting hat to consider anything other than Slytherin. She wanted to be different from her family, but it had come at a great price by driving a wedge between them. 

Her high marks and scholarly aptitude were barely noticed at home, though at school she took great pride in them. She normally excelled at Potions like most other subjects, but distraction had gotten the best of her. It wouldn’t have been so bad had her potion only burned or been a putrid mistake. No, it had to incinerate an entire wall of potion manuals and books that Professor Snape had collected over the years. 

Any other professor might have noticed that the vials of ingredients had been swapped by a scheming Slytherin when Quinn was studying the potion. Any other professor would have understood that the arson was not complicit or purposeful destruction. Many would have still given her punishment, but it wouldn’t possibly be as severe or as malicious as Professor Snape’s. 

Professor Sprout would show pity, most likely commuting her sentence to extra work extracting ingredients in the greenhouse or tending to the infant mandrakes the 1st years had planted. Professor McGonagal would set an essay or perhaps ground works oversaw by the large groundskeeper, Hagrid. Professor Trelawney would probably never have even noticed the fire, even with her gargantuan, magnifying spectacles. 

“I just hope this doesn’t affect my apprenticeship with Professor Sprout going into next year...I’d be the youngest assistant professor in ages! I can only imagine that it would make Snape more than happy to ruin that chance for me.” She pouted, her cheek resting in her hand. 

“Chin up there, Quinn,” Mathias Speckbolt nudged from where he studied next to her, “It’s not like the lot of us haven’t all had run ins with ‘im,” It was true, Mathias had plenty of detentions worth of scrubbing cauldrons. 

“It’ll be something mundane and maybe demeaning...you know how he likes to be cruel,” Lauren Riffley chirped from the couch beside them, “But it's only one, it’ll be done and over with before you know it, Collins!” 

Quinn smiled at them. They were attempting to ease her, but both knew full well that trying to understand or guess at Snape was a past time they’d surely lose. She gathered her things and dropped them in the dormitory before dressing in her uniform and robes as requested. She guessed that his instruction to wear her house colors while completing some menial task was supposed to add to her embarrassment and shame. She hoped it wasn’t scrubbing floors; knee socks and a pleated skirt would be inappropriate attire for such a task. 

The stone corridors were almost eerie at night with most other students having retreated to their common rooms or dorms. Her steps echoed off the high ceilings as she made her way deeper and deeper into the bowels of the castle. She walked slower as she came closer to the dungeons and by extension the Potion’s Master himself. He made her incredibly nervous.

She couldn’t quite place it, but the older she got, the more intimidating his quiet, brooding presence was to her. And she was aware that he’d taken notice. Perhaps he was a man amused with torture because the more uncomfortable she seemed, the more he lingered about her. His deep, halting words would confuse and distract her mind from her task so much so that she couldn’t answer the simplest of questions. He seemed to take more and more advantage of her flustery.

She knocked at the door to the Potions classroom, wary that barging in would only warrant more demerits, or worse, points from her house.

"Enter," she heard him call, a hint of annoyance in his voice. She slipped through the heavy door before it closed; she barely kept it from catching her robes.

He was not seated at his classroom desk as she’d expected. A light flickered from inside his private office which led to his personal dormitory. She tried not to shuffle her way to his office.

"Took you long enough," Snape sneered slightly, not looking up from the parchment he scribbled on. She glanced at the letter open on his desk, her family's cracked seal on it. 

"Sorry, Professor," she murmured.

"Speak clearly, Miss Collins, I haven't the time to listen to your incessant mumbling," he still did not look up at her.

"SORRY, SIR," she couldn't help her irritated snap, reigning herself in, but only slightly, "I didn't intend to mumble."

Her assertive answer made him break his attention to his parchment, peering up at her through the strands of his jet black hair. His eyes seemed somehow darker in this candlelit setting. 

So she can assert herself, Snape thought for a moment. She was always either timid or aloof in his classroom - a typical Hufflepuff in the presence of the head of Slytherin house. To see her even appear to be forthright was a change. 

“Speaking disrespectfully to me will only earn you a harsher punishment,” He stood, almost floating over to her with long strides that were hidden beneath his robes, “I sincerely doubt you would handle punishment harsher than what I already have planned.”

Quinn felt a shiver up her spine at the melodic and threatening bass of his tone. As if out of nowhere she remembered some of the wandering thoughts she’d had while daydreaming in the dark potions dungeon. Thoughts about how deep the darkness inside of Severus Snape went. Thoughts about what secrets he kept locked away. Thoughts about his clearly nimble fingers and what else they were capable of. 

“Your daydreams in my class have proven quite……...entertaining, Miss Collins,” His sinister grin sent the shiver from her spine to other more sensitive parts of her body.


	2. Botanica Incitamentum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn begins her detention, but is distracted by a curious find among Severus Snape's potion stores. 
> 
> We all know what curiosity did to the cat; but how will Quinn fare?

**Chapter 2**

Legilimency - that was the only explanation that Quinn could think of. It wasn’t a practice or theory she was completely familiar with; it wasn’t taught at school, rather a discipline that was taught privately and at a high risk. The ability to invade minds wasn’t a skill that the Ministry of Magic was very keen to let many people have proficiency in. 

She’d only read about it once in a passing mention while studying. She’d asked the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor but they were less than forthcoming with useful information, only a vague description of what it was intended to do. 

“My daydreams Professor?” She decided to play ignorance at least until she could understand his intention, “I don’t recall -”

“Don’t.Lie.To.Me,” He was in front of her now, so close that she arched slightly backward to keep him from towering on top of her, “I’ve seen enough of your thoughts, silly girl,” He sneered, stepping back to pace slowly towards his fireplace, “You’re lazy...you have absolutely no shield to your mind and that makes you vulnerable. You have too much potential to allow yourself to be so careless,” Though she was shocked at his praise, it still almost sounded like an insult with his indifferent tone.

“You think I have potential, Sir?” She was as confused by that statement as she was with his knowledge of her thoughts.

“Obviously,” An eyeroll accompanied his words as he slowly turned on his heel to face her, “You are the product of two similarly gifted Slytherins. Two Slytherins who have given me their complete approval to punish you as I see fit. However and with whatever I choose.”

As he walked closer to her he could feel that, while it was feeble, she was attempting to protect her mind somewhat. It was of no matter, he’d seen all he needed previously. She heeded instructions quickly. That was also good to know.

“My parents probably wouldn’t complain if you tore me limb from limb and scattered my remains in their garden.” She glanced at their opened letter again on his desk. He smirked again and she gulped slowly that he was amused by such a description. 

“Well then, you’ll be happy to know that your punishment will not be nearly as grotesque as you so candidly described. Kindly remove your robes,” He turned away from her, his slick hair whipping behind him as he stalked back to his desk. 

“My-my robes, Professor?” She actually clamped them tighter around her, it was not particularly warm in the dungeons surrounded by cold hard stone floors and walls, and she felt much safer cloaked. 

“I believe I was quite clear.” His words were quick and harsh, “You can remove the robes yourself or I will take the opportunity to remove them for you,” His words slowed as his threat lengthened, “Where you’re going you won’t be needing them.”

She felt a tug in her brain. It was an odd sensation like the poke of a fingertip but without a source. She was trying to control the thoughts in her own mind and was now more sure he’d been privy to thoughts that she’d hoped had been private. Her widened eyes detailed her surprise as his mouth curled into a wicked grin.

“You learn quickly, Collins. Robes. Off.”

She unfastened her robes and lay them over her arm. He took them from her and tossed them in a heap over one of the stickley chairs that sat in front of his desk. He walked away and though she paused at first, she quickly followed him having some inclination he meant for her to follow. At the door to his potions store room, he turned, almost annoyed that he wasn’t able to call her over in some condescending drawl as she had tailed him. 

“You will be wiping every speck of dust from these shelves  _ without _ breaking a single bottle,” His wand flicked and a cleaning cloth and a bottle of cleaning solution flew into her hands, “Break any bottle and you will earn yourself what Muggles refer to as corporal punishment.” The last word was enunciated slowly, the resonance in his voice was unmistakable. 

Quinn felt nervous flutters in her stomach as he stared down his prominent nose at her. Surely he hadn’t seen that thought. 

He stared silently for only a moment longer before making his exit. He stopped just shy of closing the heavy wooden door behind him.

“Whether or not you enjoy it, is up to you,” 

She was glad he was gone now, hearing the door lock behind him as she was now a captive in the dim storage room. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. She had always thought she’d hid it well that she fancied her Potions professor. She brushed it off as a typical lust for a figure of authority. It wasn’t like most of her female peers hadn’t also had their fair share of harmless romantic fantasies of other professors. She was not an anomaly in that. 

But what did make her fantasy focus peculiar was that it was indeed Professor Snape. He did not exude qualities that often fostered attraction. He was cold, insulting, degrading, a dark void of human emotion. But she’d seen flickers of passion about him when he would carry a deep interest in something.

She dampened the rag and started on the lowest shelf, kneeling on the floor. She removed the bottles carefully, feeling a tingle of worry every time the aged glass clinked against another. She expected a collection of dust, but the shelves did in fact appear to have not suffered neglect over the years. Perhaps most of the students serving a detention with Snape were made to do the work more suited to house elves. Perhaps these didn’t need cleaning at all, but she had a sneaking suspicion that while she was in the room alone, she was still possibly being watched. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

She was indeed being watched as the Potion’s Master observed her from his desk. A picture frame on his desk mirrored the look of a framed picture on the wall of the store room. That is until it was activated with a charm. Once activated, the frame on his desk became a surveillance portal. It had a view of anything facing its sister portrait hanging in the storeroom. 

She was a curious girl, she read or skimmed each bottle she touched. She would have made a fine Slytherin; she certainly had the lineage. He suspected though there was something that made her uneasy with the Hogwarts House. 

He also suspected that she’d made a plea to the sorting hat. Students couldn’t outright choose their own houses, but they could make a case for it. It was the sorting hat’s job to take that into account or not. He couldn’t deny that yellow was a lovely color on her olive complexion. Especially the bright goldenrod knickers that snuck into view on occasion when she reached to the far back corner of the shelf. He wished an errant breeze would swoop in and flip her skirt over her back, but that was unlikely since the store room she sealed from outdoor elements for the sake of the potions themselves. 

As she started the next shelf, it was barely out of reach, so she utilized the rolling ladder to reach it more comfortably. His view was even more appealing now, the portrait now level with her backside. Any bending at the waist gave him the faintest voyeuristic reward. He kept his hand clasped against his chest as he leaned back in his chair, far too self-disciplined to touch himself from the mere sight of knickers; but he grinned now as she read the labels on the bottles as she dusted them off. 

He’d been most interested to see her reaction to these rarely used potions, ones that were not generally for any sort of academic purpose. She paused longer at the wide short vial she held in her hand now, its yellowed paper label scribbled in Snape’s penmanship. 

**_Botanica incitamentum_ **

She knew those words, but couldn’t quite place them, turning the bottom over to read the other label. She was surprised to see that it indeed stated information as most did not; the catalog of potions and their purpose and or side effects resided within Snape himself. 

_ For the stimulation of genitals, particularly useful if the male partner is naturally endowed or has employed an engorgio charm.  _ _ Do not use without _ _ access to Utque sedatis balm.  _

She squinted but the rest was smudged beyond recognition. To say her interest was now fully piqued would be an understatement. She wondered if she could sneak some, but Snape was keen on students’ trickery; it was unlikely that she’d make it past him with one of his own potions, a rare one at that. She had seen the  _ Utque sedatis  _ balm on the same shelf earlier, but could not locate it now. She thought perhaps it was more of a safety net rather than a stern warning. Her curiosity was overbearing her need for logical thought.

Snape watched with mild amusement as she uncapped the small jar and sniffed the contents. She turned on the ladder, to lean back against the rungs as she read the labels over again. If she used some now she could test it. Should it prove to be enjoyable she could always research how to make more of it on her own. She assumed Snape would not return for a good while. 

Snape watched as she poured a tiny dollop of the thick potion onto the tip of her finger. He was more than pleased that she remained on the ladder, a better vantage point for his voyeurism. He watched her pull her skirt up and slide her timid hand down the front of those now entirely visible yellow knickers. 

“Silly, dirty little thing isn’t she,” he murmured to himself, she had no idea what kind of magic she was playing with. 


	3. Utque Sedatis

Quinn noticed the tingle straight away, it was subtle at first as her potion coated fingertip dipped into her slit. She slowly massaged her clit with the concoction, noticing that it warmed slightly as well. 

“Oh,” She was surprised. Though she stopped moving her fingers, it still felt like her sex was being touched and probed. “Ohhhh….” She gripped the rung behind her as her eyes fluttered closed. She moved her fingers away, slipping them out of her knickers only to continuously experience what felt like an invisible tongue lapping at her nub. 

It was odd to feel such a tangible sensation and look down only to see nothing tangible at all between her legs. Her thighs trembled as she felt the slightest wetness seep into her knickers as she tried to brace herself on the ladder. She closed her eyes, taking in the scent, the aura of the room while she was deftly stimulated. 

Snape watched ensnared by the vision of this nubile student frigging herself in front of his very eyes. He almost chuckled to himself as he saw her tip the bottle back over onto her fingertips. She was a little impatient, clearly, though when it came to carnal satisfaction it was rare to find a witch or wizard that would employ much restraint. 

Had she known that the potion strengthened significantly in reaction when mixed with her own aroused lubrication, she might not have been so quick to add more. 

She circled her throbbing bud before slipping her fingers further downward, teasing her entrance with her slick fingers. She swirled her wetness into the potion, gasping almost immediately. With trembling thighs she slowly, clumsily descended the ladder, overwhelmed now with sensation. Everywhere she touched previously now felt like a ravenous and muscled tongue...or maybe fingers… it was hard to discern the feeling of physical touch without another being present. 

She felt as if three (or possibly more) tongues were slathering her pussy, one centered at her clit, another tickled her delicate labia while the third circled (but did not penetrate) her hole. In a haze, she did realize that the movements mimicked those of her own fingers as if she’d imparted some muscle memory. But it seemed like every moment it became stronger. 

  
  


Snape watched on as she became overwhelmed with the sensation, imagining that her tunnel was thoroughly soaked and in desperate need of penetration. She had no one to blame but herself. He was, however, enjoying this torment she brought upon herself and could think of no better amusement than to deepen her torture. 

  
  


Quinn gripped the edge of the table in the middle of the room so tightly that her knuckles were pure white. She bent over it, finding it increasingly harder to stand upright. The corner of the table was between her thighs, her sex resting on the wood. She’d cum once already, dousing her knickers in sticky juices, but the potion did not relent. She knew why the bottle carried such a warning to have the antidote on hand - the sensations were only getting stronger. Surely the potency would lessen, at some point the ingredients had to lose their energy. 

“How...interesting to find you like this, Miss Collins,” Snape said from the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared down at her splayed form, her pelvis essentially humping his table inadvertently, “While I see you did not, surprisingly, break any of the bottles, you seem to have taken rather quickly to thievery?” 

Quinn gasped in an embarrassing shock as she scrambled to stand upright and pull her skirt down to cover herself. 

“Professor!” She exclaimed, the embarrassment giving way as she felt her clit tingling again as it now felt like a pair of lips encircled the nub and were sucking firmly. Having these feelings in front of  _ him _ made it that much worse, but her eyes glazed over as she came again. 

“Stealing, Miss Collins, could be grounds for expulsion,” He walked up on her slowly, his nose keen on the increasing potency of her scent as he approached, “I can only imagine the things your parents would allow me to do to you as punishment for that.” 

“Professor,” Quinn whimpered as she felt the sensation refusing to wane, “Please help...I’m very s-sorry,” She groaned as the tiniest gush seeped out of her.

“You are capable of reading, are you not.” He picked up the bottle and held it to her face as she tried to control her labored breaths, “It says quite clearly to ...well...why don’t you read it for me,” He held the vial in front of her lazed expression. She looked at him, helplessly and silently begging for mercy. His returned silence didn’t grant it to her.

“It says…” She swallowed, desperately trying to catch her breath as the sightless aggressor continued to bombard her vulva, “Do not...use... _oh.._ w-without access to... _gods..._ _utque sedatis_ b-balm.” She stuttered out, more humiliated that she’d ever been before. Snape looked down at her, clicking his tongue as his head shook.

“Hufflepuffs really are too impulsive for their own good,” He sneered, walking past her as he ignored the throbbing in his own trousers. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take her easily, she was moments away from begging to be filled, he was sure. It was that he could not trust a student, even if she was of age. At least, he couldn’t trust her just yet. 

He climbed the ladder without much expediency, sifting through the bottles with purposeful but dishonest confusion. He knew exactly which bottle he was looking for and exactly where it was even though he was not the one to place it back on his shelf. Call it a ‘Potions Master’s intuition’.

Once the bottle was in hand he descended the ladder with equal slowness before stalking towards the door, his robes flapping backwards as he passed her.

“P-Professor?” he legs threatened to buckle as her entire outward sex seemed to be consumed by the invisible assault.

“You will follow me...this draught is not appropriate to administer here.” He didn’t even look back as he demanded her to follow him. She groaned as she tried to follow, having to brace herself against the door, then the wall as she made her way to his office in his wake. 

In his office, she pressed her back against the wall,her hands spread wide against it as well. Her knees were pressed together as she tried to breathe steadily through the vaginal assault. She felt the tiniest trickle down her inner thigh, knowing it was her own sticky nectar; her knickers too saturated to absorb any more. 

The longer it went on, the less she was able to not fantasize about the authority figure in front of her. Sure she had pictured him defiling her on the tables in the classroom and more than once she’d touched herself to the image of that slick black head of hair buried between her thighs...but now...in his presence...contending with multiple orgasms with him mere feet away was making her thoughts much more detailed and vivid. 

“Come...here,” He commanded in a halting manner. She shuffled towards him, half-worried that much more stimulation and she may very well audibly squirt though she never had before. She noticed the two vials in his hand, one the antidote, the other the _ botanica incitamentum _ , “It’s clear, you’ve tortured yourself far more than I ever  _ legally _ could at the present time, Miss Collins, but,” He paused, making sure that she was paying attention, “I don’t know that you’ve fully experienced enough to properly learn your lesson.”

“Sir, I have learned my l-lesson,” Her eyes rolled in their sockets as the stimulant roughly flicked her clit.

“Then you would have guessed that vaginal lubrication only makes the potion stronger. It feeds off your lust and inability to control your devious tendencies,” 

“Sir, please,” She needed to be fucked, she’d been teased, primed for insertion. She’d never wanted, no,  _ needed _ to be stuffed full before, but now she could think of nothing else. But she couldn’t beg him, not  _ Snape _ . He’d never agree to do so with a Hufflepuff - he was too proud, conceded - Quinn felt herself knocked off balance as she felt another release take hold of her as her knickers flooded once more. She reached for anything to keep her from convulsing on the floor and grabbed hold of his robes. 

“Please what, Miss Collins?” He cocked an eyebrow, questioning what she was truly pleading for. He could see it in her eyes, but doubted very much that her mouth would say it. 

“Please…” She swallowed her brazen want to replace it with reason, “Please help make this stop,”

Snape was amused that she was able to conjure any logic out of her sexually flooded consciousness. 

“I suppose I cannot send you back to your dormitory in this state.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and set her back on her feet. Removing his robes now and rolling up his shirt sleeves, “So I will aid you, but if and only if you allow me to demonstrate the full effect of this potion. Otherwise, I fear I will find you snooping around my stores every time you have a foolish notion to pleasure yourself.

She had no idea what he intended to do to demonstrate the full effects of the potion. She felt as if she couldn’t experience any more, but she was desperate for relief. 

“Yes...please, Professor, anything…”

Snape smirked smugly as he moved the chairs away from his desk and pointed to it. 

“Skirt and knickers off, Miss Collins, they’ll only get in my way. Then sit yourself on top of my desk.”

“W-what?!” She looked wild-eyed from the direction of his pointed finger to his face with an embarrassed aghastness, “I can't just-”

“Then I cannot help you.” He almost shrugged with indifference as if it meant no great deal to him. She moaned as the separate sensations were starting to fuse into one stronger culmination.

“Fine! Please Professor...please, I’ll do whatever you say,” She started fumbling with the hook and zipper on her skirt, letting it pool at her feet before she slid her knickers down at a much slower rate. He could smell her womanhood distinctly now. A musky sweetness filled his nostrils as he pointed again to the surface of his desk. She sat, her thighs pressed together. 

“Now Miss Collins, how am I to help you if I’m not able to inspect the affected area?” He stood directly in front of her, her knees pressing into his thighs. His hand lowered, a single finger extended from his fist as he pressed it into one of her knees. The prodding parted her legs as she shut her eyes tightly as he stepped between her nectar-splotched thighs, “Was the potion applied externally only?” He questioned picking up the stimulant bottle. She stared apprehensively at it, her body still quaking from the unrelenting tonic. 

“Y-Yes…. _ oh my... _ yes, Sir,” She trembled as the invisible touch went in slow firm strokes from the back to the front of her slit repeatedly. She peeked through her hooded eyelids as he tipped the bottle to coat the tips of two of his fingers. 

“Then you have not felt the full effect…” He took a moment to make a show of spreading the potion around and along both fingers as she panted on his desk, “That won’t do,” 

Snape gripped one of his hands on her shoulder, mostly for stability, but also to keep her from squirming away.

“P-Professor?” She questioned timidly as his coated fingers lowered. She gasped to the point that her breath caught in her lungs, stalled by shock as those two fingers also saturated themselves with her womanly juices before dipping lower, slowly filling her cunt. Her surprise did not diminish as he pumped quick, short thrusts, swirling his fingertips so that the entirety of her tunnel was thoroughly exposed to the substance. She knew she should beg him to stop, that this wasn’t at all what her parents intended. 

Part of her wondered if they would be proud of her to have the honor of being molested by the head of Slytherin house. But as his long, slender fingers lengthened their strokes along her taut core, she could have cared less what anyone thought about her. All she could focus on was the pleasure she was feeling at the literal hands of her dark and brooding potions master. 


	4. Begging for Relief

For a man that was as lean and unassuming, the strength that emanated from his arm was surprising. He prodded every inch of her womb and soon she felt as if those same invisible tongues had slithered inside her. The heat built to an almost intolerable level and she was mortified as she felt herself losing control as she cried out her professor’s name.

“Oh! Gods! Professor Snape...I’m cumming!” she gasped out as she looked down at the vision of his fingers working her as if she were a fine instrument. 

“Of course you are,” He almost sneered the words, “What else would I expect from a slutty little witch like you,” As he slowed his fingers and ultimately slid them out of her, strings of her womanly cum followed. He cleaned them on her skirt, smirking, “I should make you properly clean them off,”

She trembled as she felt the odd sensation of being gently fucked while her cunt was vacant. She looked at the vial that held her salvation. Snape did not yet reach for it.

“Sir, please,” She begged, feeling herself grow weaker, leaning farther backwards on his desk, resting on her elbows. Her plea turned on an unwilling ear as he summoned a chair back into place, sitting between her splayed legs. She whimpered as she felt his thumbs gently spread open her swollen pussy lips wide, “Professor...this is wrong…” She implored. 

“But you like it, don’t you Collins?” He looked hungrily at her spread hole, watching as sticky wetness seeped out from it, “You like being on display for me. Don’t deny it, I’ve seen your thoughts, remember?” He was torturing her, “Now, cum again. Then and only then will I apply the  _ utque sedatis _ balm.”

She blubbered a bit, knowing she would indeed cum again, but she could already feel a cramping in her pelvis from overexertion. 

“Yes….y-yes, Professor,” She closed her eyes and gave into the sensation instead of fighting them. She could feel her sex being spread open and it felt like a dozen tongues and finger were prodding her. She wondered if his tongue was actually on her...she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. She decided to imagine that it was - it would only make her cum faster. 

She imagined his serpent tongue slipping in and out of her tight quivering hole as he stretched it open. His prominent nose nudged her clit each time his oral muscle plunged into her. She imagined riding his face many times before, using his nose just as much as his mouth to get off. 

He saw glimpses of her visions, though they were only repeats. There was a truth to the calming salve he had on standby that he’d neglected (with purpose) to mention. He could see the muscles of her cervix contracting and quivering as she moaned, closing in on cumming. He desperately wanted to see how tight her tunnel became when she was in the clutches of orgasm. 

“Miss Collins, I should mention,” He slowed his words with purposeful halting, “That the utque sedatis balm does neutralize the effects - after a few hours,”

“A FEW HOURS?” She squealed, immediately recoiling as she realized she could be accused of speaking out of turn to an esteemed member of the faculty. 

“Three to Four,” He grinned wickedly to himself, “However,”

She knew he paused at times for dramatic delivery. It usually titillated her, but now it was driving her into a mental rage.

“There is an alternative substance that can provide almost instant relief,” 

“Bloody hell, Professor! What is it?!” She couldn’t help the desperation or the firmness in her tone. 

“Human saliva,” he smirked as she fell back the rest of the way back to his desk, moaning like a banshee in heat; he watched her hole intently. 

“Anything Professor, anything...just please...make it stop,” She begged, convulsing slightly. She heard the legs of the chair scoot across the stone floor as he stood and she felt her legs being lifted straight up in the air. She wanted to question him, but she could barely keep her eyes focused as her head clouded. 

She felt her hips being lifted and looked up just as a shining drop of saliva left his mouth and dripped into her still quivering hole. She watched in awe as he repeated the motion and she became keenly aware that her cunt would soon be full of it. She was also aware of the calming in her womb as his spittle did its job of diffusion. 

She felt as if she were having an out of body moment when he tilted her hips back down to the desktop and his head descended between her thighs. 

His tongue was well muscled and calm in its labor and though she was aware it was happening, it was more difficult to comprehend that her Potion’s professor was indeed going down on her. She wondered with a dreaded excitement if he may very well fuck her next. 

“Silly girl,” he murmured, his mouth otherwise full of her pussy, “I don’t fuck students…”

But his tongue apparently did not carry that same restraint as it slathered over her slit and dipped into her hole again. 

Snape knew that the first potion had been diffused by now and was instead reveling in the feel of his mouth on her. Her taste was more than pleasant, so he didn’t mind continuing. He could feel how hard her little clit had become with the repeated releases. He did not use that as an excuse to be gentle, firm flicks of his tongue made her squirm. He could tell she was about to cum again, this time faster and completely at his attention and not the potion’s. 

Just as she began to pant, he stopped. He noticed she almost froze as if she’d been caught breaking school rules. 

“I think that should be sufficient, Miss Collins.” She watched as he walked around his desk and pulled a crisp cloth from the top drawer. He wiped her wetness from his face, pausing to look down expectantly at her. She looked at him a little confused at first until he pressed his lips together in annoyance, “....your detention is over, return to your house.” 

She felt embarrassed now, sitting up and slipping off his desk in search of her knickers Just as she was about to grab them, they whisked themselves off the floor and flew to Snape’s waiting fist. 

“I will be keeping these Miss Collins,” He spoke, though he didn’t even look at her, going about his evening as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. She was too flabbergasted to question him, slipping on her skirt and grabbing her robes and making her way out of the dungeons quickly. She hurried back to her common room, very aware of how damp she was beneath her skirts. She wished she was better at transfiguration, she’d love to procure and bewitch an item to mimic the cock she most desperately needed. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

Once she was gone, Snape’s office door locked itself as he ran his hand over the rigid lump straining in his lap, his other hand held her soaked, golden knickers as he looked them over. Releasing his aching manhood from his trousers he gripped it firmly as he inhaled her womanly scent from the garment. 

It was a wonder he hadn’t caved in to fuck her. She would have welcomed the inappropriate union and then thanked him profusely for it. He’d never fucked a student before; sure, he’d made a few 7th years his personal play toys, but he’d never fucked one. 

He swirled the knickers around his cock as he pumped slowly, then wrapped the garment around his bulging shaft.

“Collins,” his hissed abusing himself as he pictured her hole and how it would stretch to accommodate him when he took her, “Such a dirty witch to make me think of such vile things...and with a Hufflepuff no less…” 

He stroked faster as he imagined what her nubile body would look like strapped to his bed to torture and tease for hours. Imagining making her ride his cock for extra credit after he’d threatened to fail her. Imagining making her demonstrate the  _ botanica incitamentum  _ in front of the whole class. He soon found his breath heavy as cum spewed from his tip, blocked by the fabric of her knickers as he coated them with his seed. He wished now he’d done this first and made her wear them back to her house. 

  
Luckily for him, she was returning next year to begin an apprenticeship with her Head of House professor. He knew plentiful opportunities would likely abound. She wouldn't be a student then - which to him, meant she was more than fair game.


	5. Summer Break

Summer was quick to arrive after Quinn’s Hogwarts graduation. She hadn’t had another run-in with Snape and she surprisingly found herself disappointed for it. She had sulked as she packed her trunk, only to discover a small brown paper package secured with green string. In it were two vials -  _ botanica incitamentum  _ and  _ utque sedatis balm _ . With it was an unsigned note to use them with caution. 

She thought the summer would prove her too busy to even think about utilizing them. After all she needed to pass several exams and inquisitions to complete her application for apprenticeship with Professor Sprout. She had all the sterling recommendations and good marks from her teachers; even potions she managed a high respectable grade, especially surprising since anyone that wasn’t a Slytherin barely received a passing grade. She hoped that her merit had earned the marks instead of a particular instance.

She spent most of the summer attending training at the ministry, where all new educators had to complete the introductory course before the school term began. The other students were all her age, most she knew from Hogwarts although there were others from the foreign schools. Some would be staying for a multi-year program, pursuing a more scholarly training, while Quinn preferred to get her hands dirty by completing her training in the field. Plus, Sprout had suggested that she’d get a jump on her peers by working at Hogwarts straight away. 

The last night of the summer program was the only time she had a moment or the energy to crack open a vial. She was much more reserved with the amount, putting the tiniest of drops on the tip of her finger and massaging it on to her clit. She’d become quite close friends with one of the Bulgarian blokes that would be interning at Durmstrang. As friends they decided to cap off the culmination of the program by being beneficial friends for the night. 

His cock was more than pleasant, but the most pleasure came from the gentle, unending vibrations at her clit. It felt as if she was being fucked and licked at the same time. She imagined it was Snape that had her bent over her bed, drilling her with purposeful animosity as if he were ashamed that his cock was even inside her but unable to resist it at the same time. 

It was a hard image to hold, she had to assume that Snape would be a more creative lover than just the quick, repetitive pumps that Nikola seemed to have in his solitary arsenal. 

“Your pussy is gonna make me cum!” Was about the extent of his dirty language and more or less an obvious statement. Snape would never say that. No. He’d have something far more clever, perhaps even somewhat insulting. 

He’d tell her to get on her knees and swallow his cum because her Hufflepuff pussy didn’t deserve his seed. She came suddenly from the thought, her tunnel must’ve tightened swiftly because it was within seconds that Nikola had pulled out from her to cum in his own cupped palm. 

\----------------------------------

She was at Hogwarts before she’d really even had time to miss it. It was a relief that she’d only had to spend less than a cumulative week at her parent’s place. They made it no secret that they were distasteful of her employment choice. 

“Why don’t you apprentice with Professor Snape? I was surprised to receive a letter from him after your detention, he claimed you took your punishment rather well. I’m sure he would accept you if you applied, and would give you something to be proud of for once in your education,” Her mother would never stop trying to push her to Slytherin or anything more in line with their families  _ values. _ She was not inline with those values; she’d seen the tell tale mark on her father’s forearm and knew they had, at least at one time, supported He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

“Mother, my talent is in herbology, which we wouldn’t even have potions without plants,” Quinn had countered. Her mother audibly huffed.

“A child of mine is to be a lowly farmer,” her mother’s voice dripped with disgust and exasperation. 

Quinn was used to ignoring her family’s disappointment, but sometimes it still stung. 

\--------------------------------------

She hadn’t really thought of what it would be like to see Snape again. Being that as far as the school was concerned she was now a staff member, part of the faculty. She wasn’t a student. She couldn’t help but remember those words from him that night.

_ “Silly girl, I don’t fuck students,” _

She tried not to put too much thought into anything he’d done or said, over analyzation would only drive her slightly mad and still not give her any concrete answers. She had no doubt she would be seeing plenty of him. As a student she often saw him pilfering through Professor Sprouts personal greenhouse as well as the one used by students. It wasn’t as one-sided as he often provided potions and brews that some of the magical plants required to flourish. The two disciplines were intricately interwoven so she assumed she’d get an idea fairly quickly about where she stood with him. 

She did see him during the first feast of the year, he seemed as sullen and uninterested in the festivities of the first years being sorted and the opening announcements. He was quiet, not speaking to the staff on either side of him. His dark eyes were focused forward, nothing discriminated in his line of vision. She tried not to stare, but when he pursed his lips in annoyance, she couldn’t help but imagine the way they’d encircled her clitoris as it throbbed in his mouth.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

She hoped that physical distance kept legilimency at bay, though she tried to rid those thoughts as soon as they entered for fear he’d be probing her mind. Perhaps just out of curiosity. Perhaps out of fear that she may be an untrustworthy adversary, worried that she’d oust him for crossing the line. Being an apprentice, she was on a table on the lower floor of the great hall, still near the head table. But apparently he wasn’t interested in her thoughts, or she was just far enough away. 

The first days were a flurry of activity; it was hard to resist being affected by the buzz of the students as they settled into their new routines. The first years were especially fun. They were wide-eyed and full of wonder, even more so the little wizards and witches born to muggle parents. Some acted as if they had no idea of the magical world until their letter had arrived. 

She made it a point to help these first years out more than the others, regardless of their house. The Slytherin’s might have been the most standoffish at first, but they quickly gravitated towards her as she gave them tips to keep the black peppermint from making them sneeze. 

She was a glorified gopher the first few weeks of the term, always running about gathering spades and gloves and either giving them or taking them from students. She also completed errands between the Professors to help reduce the amount of owl pellets and waste in the hallways. The walks around the castle to her were relaxing. 

Snape did stop into the greenhouse one evening and she felt her nerves tingle with anxiety. He barely acknowledged her at all with a “Good evening,” that in all perpetuity was meant for both her and Professor Sprout. He waited for Pomona to retrieve the ingredients he needed for his next Potions demonstration, quietly at first. Quinn went about her work as well, trying to pretend his cloaked form wasn’t blocking her only exit. 

“I assume your summer holiday was satisfactory?” His voice cut through the thick silence like a brazen sword. 

“It was, Professor, thank you for asking,” She was polite, cordial, she knew he was one to play very carefully so she chose not to be dismissive, “And yours?”

“Quite pleasant, actually,” his hands grasped each other behind him, “Of course my cottage always brings me peace, especially since it's away from these petulant mites of human beings.” He continued as the sound of children’s voices giggled nearby. They were clearly running, hoping to make it back to their houses before curfew which was rapidly approaching, “Though sometimes children bring me a great deal of joy,”

Quinn made sure to keep her hands and mind busy with her task to keep from letting her thoughts wander. 

“I find working with them quite rewarding; how do they bring you joy, Professor?” 

“When the horrible little sods misbehave of course,” He did well to hide the smirk on his lips.

“That’s an odd thing to enjoy, Professor…” Quinn started, confused by his admission.

“It gives me the ability to assign a well deserved detention, Collins,” the smooth bass of his voice did little to soften its shock value once she heard it. Her head snapped up to look at him just as Professor Sprout returned with his ingredients. 

“And you’ll have the de-pimpling potion for the mandrake sprouts soon, yes?” She inquired, unaware of any conversation between Snape and Quinn. 

“Yes. It should only need another day or two to complete its fermentation. You can send Miss Collins to fetch it Friday evening,” He left with as little cordiality as when he arrived and Quinn felt a little shaken, though she couldn’t quite explain why. 

His words could have been taken in a variety of contexts, so she tried to tell herself that she was inspecting his word far too much. It was unlikely he was veiling any such intent or desire or he would have done so sooner. It was well over a month into the term. Had he had any lingering interest surely he would have approached her before now. 

Regardless of the logic she attempted to employ, her imagination had its own agenda, a prophetic chance encounter with Professor Snape in his quarters. She found herself locked away in the interns' bathroom with her bottles of  _ botanica incitamentum  _ and  _ utque sedatis balm.  _ As she opened the vial, she caught a faint whiff of something, but it dissipated quickly. Not so quickly though that she didn’t recognize its manly, brooding scent. 

Perhaps he had added a little reminder of himself to the potions...as if to instill himself in her lurid thoughts. Maybe she wasn’t as off base as her imagination thought.

Now of age, she had access to a greater variety of self pleasuring tools and quickly found herself perched in a window seat with her legs spread. The  _ botanica incitamentum  _ was well at work as she charmed a pleasantly sized dildo to plunge into her neglected sex. An  _ egorgio _ charm made the device swell slightly as she moaned louder.

The botanicals were doing a fine job of stimulating her swollen nub as she murmured to herself.

“Severus…” She whispered as her wand flicked, charming the dildo to increase its speed and force. She came with a shuddering squeal as she lacked the focus to slow the device pummeling her. She was shaking by the time she eliminated the enchantmant, dipping her fingers into the calming balm and slathering it over her throbbing, wet sex. Though she felt somewhat satisfied, it was never as gratifying as being with another person. She didn’t need a serious relationship currently, that ruled out many romantic attachments with boys her own age. Oddly enough they were all looking for steady girlfriends, ones that their mother’s would be aware of and inspect as potential marriage material. 

Snape did not seem the marrying type. He did not seem to fancy keeping anyone emotionally close. Perhaps he would be the perfect candidate for a mutually beneficial yet unencumbered agreement. After all, he had seen her in quite the vulnerable position - it would be somewhat less awkward with that. She only hoped that she hadn’t lost whatever allure she may have had before.


	6. A Private Lesson

The next couple of days passed with a slowness that she was sure would drive her to absolute mental ruin. At the same time she was apprehensive about visiting Snape. The last time she’d been in his office or storage room...well...things had gone an entirely different direction than anticipated. She’d spent both days constantly considering his words from their moments alone in the greenhouse. Perhaps he meant nothing more than what the surface revealed. 

It was no secret that he did indeed enjoy disciplining students. That practice was well known. Even by students from his own house, though they were fewer, farther between, and frequently less severe. In fact the last was not her first detention with him, though it was the only one that had been desecrated in such a way. 

She watched the mandrakes closely, trying to keep them comfortable and warm while they waited on a potion to cure them of their adolescent festering boils. They were quite insolent these days, Quinn could not wait for them to reach full maturity so that she didn’t have to sit with them so much. They did not make for interesting company. 

Though time seemed to stand in place on Friday, the hour for her to go and collect the potion did come. And as curious as she may have been, her feet seemed reticent to comply as she walked the nearly empty corridors. She was glad for the dark hallways and the lack of onlookers, she was not inappropriately dressed, however any amount of cleavage from staff was usually frowned upon. She didn’t want to advertise that she was available, but she also didn’t want to deter anything from happening either.

“Come in,” His voice was already tinged with annoyance, even though she assumed he would be expecting her. 

She entered the potions classroom, remembering its smell well. If possible, it was even darker and more shadowy than she remembered that last time she’d been here in the evening. 

“Professor? I’m here to collect the potion for Professor Sprout?” Quinn wrapped her cloak around her a bit, suddenly feeling a shyness wash over her, worried that her flesh exposure was now too much. 

“Of course you are,” Those words echoed in her head as she remembered the last time she heard them; she was even more sure that he was toying with her, “I expected you much earlier,” He did not emerge from his office and though she waited in the classroom, she heard no shuffling or other noises that indicated he would appear from his private office. She picked up her leaden feet and made her way towards him instead, stopping in the doorway just shy of the threshold. 

“I assumed you were at dinner, sir,” She still remained in the classroom, noting a fragrant odor lingering about. 

“You should know better than to make assumptions about me, Collins. In all your years here how often did you note me at dinner with the lot of you...other than the required attendance at the ceremonious feasts?”

“I suppose not often at all, sir,” It was glaringly obvious now that she thought back on it. 

“You’ll find Sprout’s concoction in my stores. I’m sure you’ll recall how the potions are arranged.” He looked down his long nose at her, noting that while she might have rouged her cheeks with embarrassment, she didn’t shy away or cower at the insinuation of her last visit. 

“I remember quite well, Professor,” She spun on her heel, not waiting for further permission to enter his store room. 

The bottles were not alphabetical in general. They were arranged more so by their function and or purpose and then by a loose alphabetical arrangement. There was a small shelf near the back of the room that held plant related growing and maintenance brews. 

“ _ Lumos _ ,” She flicked her want and lit the tip of it as she searched the dark corner. She located the  _ Flora Boil Remover _ and tucked it into the pocket of her robes. 

“I see that you remember your way around quite well,” His voice didn’t bellow, but its deep resonance filled the room, cutting through the quiet static. She looked behind her to see him gliding slowly through the doorway. 

“I spent enough time here, Professor. Especially last year.” She was almost desperate for a mention, a mere suggestion that he recalled any of the events; that any part of her resided in his memory in any sort of twisted, fond way. She felt her head becoming a little fuzzy, but resisted. She noticed a sly smirk from him when the fuzziness faded away; she’d successfully managed to avoid his cerebral invasion. 

“You always were an acceptable student, Collins. You committed most everything to memory and didn’t need to be reminded on a constant basis of what you should be doing,” He held his hands together in front of him, fingertips touching as he studied her, obscured by her dark cloak, “I have to admit, I was rather surprised that you didn’t also apply to be a Potions apprentice.”

Quinn felt as if she needed to clean out her ears. That apprenticeship was more than commonly known to favor only those students graduating in excellent standing from Slytherin House. Not once had Snape chosen one from any of the other houses; even if it had been warranted. Quinn turned to face him, more than aware that her cloak lay open in the front, exposing the cleavage she had been so keen earlier to keep hidden. She wasn’t as motivated to sequester herself now. 

“Potions? Sir...No student outside of Slytherin applies for that post...no one outside of Slytherin is ever given it…” She tried to act unaffected as his black eyes flickered downwards to her pale bosom. 

“Well if no one else applies for it, then how would one every appoint anyone else, silly girl,” He had a way of sounding condescending whether or not that was his implication. 

Quinn was thwarted there. She had no potential rebuttal for that argument. 

“I would have thought your class scores and o.w.l.s would have clued you in to your apparent aptitude. Seeing as I had not accepted any of the apprentice applications for the current term - the position remains vacant.” 

“Are you asking me? You’d like me to be your apprentice??” She couldn’t help the surprised and flabbergasted tone that escaped her. He smirked yet again, making her stomach quiver slightly. 

“I don’t just give apprenticeships, Collins. You have to prove to me that you are an appropriate candidate.”

“But sir...I’m...I’m already under Professor Sprout...I can’t just abandon that post too-” She stuttered through the conditions that she felt hindered such a thing. She was quickly interrupted.

“I’m well aware of your current situation. Graduates are allowed to apprentice in more than one discipline...however...if the task seems to be too much for you, I can withdraw my invit-”

“I’ll do it,” She quickly interrupted, “I mean...I’d be interested in proving my worth.” She was more reserved as she continued, “How...how would I do that?” She stepped closer to him, the  _ lumos _ charm on her want still illuminating the space around her just enough. 

“You will brew me a potion; a complicated one at that,” He remained at the table as she approached, clearing the bottles from it with a few flicks of his wand as they returned to their homes on the shelves that had already gathered another layer of dust. 

Quinn reached for the clasp of her cloak and unbuttoned it, letting it fall away as she rolled up her sleeves as well. 

“I brewed everything in your class successfully...will this be a different potion than one you taught?”

“Quite different...and one not typically appropriate for an academic setting.” he flicked his wand again as ingredients and herbs stacked themselves before her as did a small cauldron that floated over a simmering flame. As she skimmed the names of the ingredients, she felt her throat tighten a little.

“Sir...is this…” She trailed off as she looked at him. Smirking again, glaring at her with those impossibly dark eyes through the curtain of his hair. 

“ _ Botanica incitamentum _ \- Miss Collins,” He enjoyed watching how her breath quickened, her cleavage making it all too obvious as her chest swelled even more, “And I should stress that you use extra caution as we  _ will _ be testing the brew as part of your...audition.” 

\---------------------------------------


	7. An Appropriate Request

Quinn felt a ringing in her ears as she contemplated the offer before her. It was as if every aloof fantasy from her summer daydreams was formulating before her. But what would being his apprentice  _ mean _ ? 

Aside from the confusing test before her, would it mean that they would only work together in a professional capacity? Carrying on as anything more simultaneously would be unethical, at best. Or would it only provide more opportunity to expand not only her mind, but her carnal abilities as well?

“Perhaps you should brew the potion before you jump to any hasty conclusions, Miss Collins.” Snape’s tone cut through the fog in her mind as she realized she had let her guard down. At least she could explain away her rosy cheeks on the chill in the room, “Ginger root. It requires the longest steeping time.” He set a rolled parchment next to the ingredients, “I’ll return in two hours, you should be close to...completion by then.”

His robes billowed as he exited, leaving Quinn in a mixed state of confusion and astonishment. The truth was she did thoroughly enjoy potions. She had every year of her student career, which is why she’d continued it beyond her 5th year into Advanced Potions. She had felt like a yellow sore thumb in a sea of green, but she’d continued to earn high marks. 

The potion was complicated, there was no denying that. She studied the next steps as she stirred, counter clockwise, the frothing liquid. She frowned at the 29th line, reading it repeatedly. 

“Reserve a cheekful of saliva, distributing it slowly from pursed lips into the stirring liquid so that it evenly distributes in a circular formation.” Reading it aloud did not make it sound any less ludicrous. But, she stifled her urge to swallow as her mouth slowly filled with saliva, storing it on one side as it secreted. She carefully measured the small amount of powdered dragon’s tongue; she knew full well that this ingredient was not easily obtainable. She stirred it again until the liquid kept spinning on its own, leaning over the cauldron, she let the saliva drip from between her lips and swirl itself among the foamy top. 

“ _ Note: _ ” She read aloud, but quietly to herself, “ _ The addition of saliva provides a nullifying effect. It allows the potion to be deactivated. This is especially useful when the proper sedating balm is not available. However, only the owner of the saliva will have this effect, making each individually brewed potion unique.” _

So only her saliva would negate the potion. The warning made sense, Snape had been the creator of the previous concoction which is why -    
  
Quinn had to stall her thoughts, feeling her thighs press together as she thought of Professor Snape slathering her sex with his marvelously flexible tongue. It was no wonder he was a Slytherin with such a skilled muscle. She could not afford to be distracted though, this potion would require the whole of her attention. 

She bruised a few dried mint leaves, crushing them in a mortar before sprinkling their crumbled remains over the quickly thickening potion. 

“I can add scent without affecting its potency,” She thought for a moment, searching the shelves until she found lavender oil, adding a couple of droppers worth of scent into the batch. She often wore the scent, so it made sense that her potion would reflect herself. She thought it looked rather similar to the bottled lotion that she had discovered a mere couple of months ago, so she felt some confidence that she’d done well. She lowered the flame to allow it to cool slowly as Professor Snape returned. 

“Has it finished?” He asked, knowing full well that she was almost completed. 

“Yes sir, I just need to bottle it.” She looked around for empty, clean bottles until he pulled a shining bottom with a cork stopper from behind his robes. She took it, careful to not touch his hand more than necessary, “Thank you,” 

Using a funnel, she carefully poured the warm liquid into the bottle, making sure to waste as little as she could of it. She capped the bottle and took care to replace each ingredient by hand on the shelves. She took her time, primarily because she was nervous about the next part of her task; the testing.

“Follow me.” Snape said simply, walking in long strides towards his office as she quickly shuffle-stepped behind him. They entered his office and she found herself surprised that they walked through it, past a heavy wooden door that led to his sleeping chambers. She had not expected this. Not to be in his private space - the most intimate of his existence. 

A wingback chair covered in tufted, crushed dark green velvet sat nearby the white washed fireplace. A fire crackled, the late summer giving way to cool autumn earlier than normal. Books sat in an askew stack as high as the arms around the chair. She made a very careful glance towards his bed and its heavy, dark curtains that were tied to the corners of the four poster frame. She was not surprised it was made; he was not messy...but then again houselves often did much of those types of tasks. 

“Are you confident that you have succeeded?” His dark brow cocked upwards on his forehead as he looked down at her. She ran straight into him, backing up quickly and fixing her posture. 

“I’m confident that I have followed the directions exactly as they were given.” She gripped the bottle tightly, her knuckles straining white a bit. 

“Does your confidence falter if I proposed that you be the subject of demonstration?” Snape unfastened his robes, walking away from where she was rooted in place to hang them on a nearby hall tree. 

She considered his question carefully before answering in the affirmative. 

“No sir, I’m confident it will work,” Her mind raced slightly as she imagined being at its mercy again...but this time, his saliva would not be the trick that would calm the effects. 

“What if the true test is to use it on another subject?” He walked back to her slowly, “Perhaps myself,”

Quinn’s mouth felt increasingly dry now the closer he came to her. She knew her thighs were shaking and that her bodice felt as if it were loosening itself. He wanted her to use the lotion  _ on him. _

“You, Professor? Is ...well is that appropriate?” She questioned, gulping down the lump forming in her throat. 

“I hardly think it was appropriate to pleasure yourself last term using items that do not belong to you, in a professor’s presence,no less,” he could feel his own mouth salivating at the memory of her taste and the way her thighs clamped on his ears, “You took from me, so I’ll return the favor to even that playing field. That is...if it's an agreeable proposition to you.”

Quinn kept her mind locked, knowing he was looking inward for any clue of how she really felt about his proposal. She was keenly aware that the sedative balm was nowhere to be found...so likely it would be up to her to calm the effects of the potion. She tried not to let herself be too excited, at least noticeably. 

“I agree,” She made her voice firm to hide the panic that was slowly building. She watched as he strode to the chair, sitting in it slowly as his eyes were trained on her. He leaned back, studying her, making it obvious when his focus drifted down her body. 

“Then you’ll need to come much, much closer,” He curled one of his long fingers towards her as if in a sinister beckoning, “And you’ll need to relax, Collins.”

She bit back a scoff; that was clearly easier suggested than practiced. 


	8. A Necessary Reciprocation

She found herself moving forward though he wasn’t aware that she was in any sort of control of her own limbs. 

“Kneel,” He pointed at the floor, transfiguring the throw rug in front of him into a more cushioning pillow, “I don’t need you collapsing in my lap should the experience prove to be too overwhelming for you.”

“And what makes you think that it would do anything like that to me,” She huffed a little, her impulsive tone indicative of her irritation. 

“Don’t forget, Collins, I’ve seen your thoughts,” His eyes looked if at all possible darker black and his amused grin was somewhat sinister, “Though you’ve improved greatly on shielding your mind.”

The vague insult cushioned by a compliment was a bit confusing. She knelt as told, but still scowled a little. She sat, too timid to reach forward and take the initiative, waiting for his instruction. 

“Robes off - this can ruin some fabrics,” he motioned to her cloak and she meekly removed it, exposing the cleavage that she’d been so confident before to utilize, “Unbutton your blouse,” he instructed next.

Quinn looked at him with some surprise, unmoving now as she knelt between his splayed legs, her bosom ready to spill forth, her hands desperately gripping the bottle tightly. When she did not move, Snape spoke again.

“If you cannot follow directions, there is no place for you within my department. The blouse, Collins, unbutton it.” Her reaction now would tell him if she had any interest in remaining in his presence in more ways than one. He almost held his breath until her shaking fingers lifted and began undoing the strained buttons of her blouse, one hand still gripping onto the small bottle neck. 

“Like this sir?” She asked, half of her shirt unbuttoned, she felt faint again, but held on to her wits as much as she could as his eyes looked down at her exposed flesh, more than obvious in their study. 

“I would much rather you remove it completely.” He stated, not making a demand, rather instilling his preference. She seemed to not care about how the statement was made, acquiescing but undoing the few buttons left and slipping it off. He was glad his garments were loose - she wouldn’t be aware yet that the potion was unnecessary. His sexual attraction to her had been budding for some time. 

He wanted to ask more of her. He wanted her completely naked while she stroked her potion on him. He wanted her to feel what it was like to use the potion and have a cock inside of her - the duality of sensation was almost too much to handle for the seasoned user - she would near lose her senses. After their last interaction, he’d thought repeatedly of it. 

But he couldn’t ask that much of her. Not yet. Not without creating an awkward situation that would provide an extremely limited outlet. He could play her very carefully and have a much greater future potential.

“Undo my trousers,” he instructed next, his hands resting on the chair arms at his side. It was clear she heard him, her eyes dropped immediately to his waistband. Her chest rose a little quicker with her breath, but he did repeat himself, “Undo. My Trousers,” 

Quinn felt almost as if her body were autonomous as her hands lifted, the bottle resting in her lap as she fingered the button open and slowly peeled the flaps open, the zipper descending on its own. She started to work the pants from his hips, but he stopped her. 

“That’s far enough,” He warned, “Now, remove my genitals from my undergarments, carefully,” He added to keep her from becoming overzealous in the moment. The chance of that was unlikely since she seemed just as timid as before. 

The tight black fabric encompassed him, concealing a noticeable bulge. She pulled the waistband down slowly and careful to not snag the black hair that descended from his navel down his body. Her breath was shallow as she unwittingly leaned forward as his fleshy manhood was revealed. The tip was slightly pinkish, but seemed to be darkening by the second as she was careful to allow the waistband to sit comfortably under the large orbs that his shaft rested on.    
  


“Focus, Collins,” His deep voice interrupted her daze as she gazed at his sex, “Prepare to apply the potion,” He smirked as she fumbled with it, her hands shook a little as she let the contents ooze onto her fingertips. He was disappointed in himself when his cock twitched just from watching her, not wanting yet for her to know what physical reactions she caused, “Apply slowly,” He instructed, his fingers already gripping the ends of the chair arms tighter. 

Quinn noticed the subtle changes in his mannerisms, the movement of his shaft, the change of the aura in the room. She was keen to all of it, but kept it to herself for now. She reached forward again, her delicate hand picked up his shaft, its weight significant against her palm. The skin was not excessive, moving slightly with her palm as she massaged the potion in. She noticed when his breathing changed, when it hitched, when he held his breath and then let out a slow controlled breath. It was working. 

Though the potion was thoroughly absorbed, she did not stop stroking his length that had grown substantially from its mostly flaccid state. She watched as his thighs clenched, his tip dripping precum onto his glans. She let her thumb slip over, spreading it over the ridges of his veiny shaft. She still felt out of body, as if this were something she was watching happen rather than participating in. 

But the throb of her own sex reminded her very quickly that she was present and partaking. She wished she could sneak a drop or two of potion under her skirt. She had spent a significant amount of time staring hungrily at his cock as she stroked it, knowing it would please her better than any she’d had before. He was a man, likely experienced and would know more about pleasing a woman than the boys that had come before. 

“More potion, sir?” She asked, her lips parted as she panted like a witch in heat. The way his eyes stared at her did nothing less to subdue her libido.

He did not quite know how he was resisting the urge to throw her to the floor and fuck her silly, but that was not his way. It was not his character to act so rash, regardless of the impulsivity that tempted him now. 

“Yes, Collins,” he tried to appear still very much in control though he felt as if his body were aflame, “Apply it to yourself as well.” He was barely able to keep from smirking as she hurriedly shook a small palm full on hand. She took two finger tips of it on her other hand, stroking his shaft with the palm full and letting her fingers dive between her own legs. 

He grit his teeth as the sensation intensified. If this potion was any indication (and it usually was), she would be marvelous at oral pleasure. He could barely stand it now, typically the potion was only a portion of the talent as well. He let her play with her own sex, her fingers not retreating to let the potion do its work.

“Professor,” She whimpered, no doubt close to flooding her own hand.

“Yes, Collins?” he almost hissed as her hand moved the length of him a little quicker. Her eyes were darkened with lust, almost as black as his own. 

“May I please suck your cock now, sir?” She asked, her voice raspy with want, her lips already leaning towards him. 

At her question, he slipped her hand from his shaft, his other hand slipping around the back of her head, directing her wanton mouth to his aching sex. He was surprised slightly by the willingness of her mouth to accept him as he plunged his throbbing glans between her lips. 

“Be careful what you ask for, Collins,” He lifted his hips so that more of him slid into her mouth; his thickness tested her and he was pleased when she didn’t pull away. He was also fully aware that not once did she stall in stimulating herself, still clearly aroused by what was taking place.


	9. A More Private Lesson

Snape’s jaw clenched as the potion began to subside in the presence of her mouth. The effects quickly quashed...the pleasure however did not retreat in the slightest. The longer her stretched lips bobbed up and down his length, the more confident he was that she was continuing out of want and not coercion. 

Though he gripped the armrest tightly enough that his knuckles paled, he otherwise did not concede control. He could hear the flurry of her fingers and her self-induced moans tingled against his foreskin. The potion had been indeed an indicator of her talent. Lost in her own pleasure, though, she’d come off slightly sloppy. Sloppy had its time and place, but he would teach her to be mindful of both receiving and giving pleasure. She’d never harness her power if she wasn’t taught to properly wield it. 

Yes. Quinn Collins would make a fine apprentice. 

She tensed when she felt his fingers snake through her hair and had her mouth not been full she’d have gasped when he gripped a handful of it tightly. 

“This is not a race, Collins,” he stilled her head, but did not remove himself from her mouth. He could hear that her fingers had also stopped their fervorous movement, “If you intend to pleasure myself or any man, you must learn to have exactly that. Intent. Do so with purpose,” His hand pressed downward against her head until she sunk him once again deeper into her mouth. She was slow, using the pressure of his hand as a guide. She slid up slowly as his grip began to pull upwards. She dragged her tongue, flat but firm against the underside of his shaft, pleased when she felt it twitch and pulse. 

He kept pulling her upwards until his tip was just out of reach of the tip of her tongue, but left her hovering over. 

“How does your potion feel when you use it on yourself, Collins?” He was amused at the quick pants of air that he felt wafting over his cock as her mouth hovered so very close to it. Though she no longer stimulated herself, the potion was still at work, “Is it strong enough?” 

“Yes, sir,” She gulped as she kept her body in a rigid state of balance, “But it’s...it’s…” She stuttered as her clit tingled. 

“I’m not one for guessing games, out with it,” He shook her head slightly by the handful of hair he still held. 

“It’s not as good as yours, sir,” She blurted out. 

He smirked, knowing full well that would be the case. She may possess potential talent, but he had years of tailored and practiced skill - the potions each reflected that from their brewers. 

“Suck my cock properly and I’ll reward you with a special brew of my own.” He pulled a vial from his pocket, “And it's much stronger than the one you pilfered from me last year.” He put the vial in her view and he was quite sure he felt her tremble.

“Yes, sir!” She answered almost excited, lowering enough to lap her tongue in circles around his tip, licking up the precum that oozed over the ridge. He relaxed his grip enough to let her mouth encompass him, his hand still on her as a reminder. She was eager and seemed to be sincere in her enjoyment. She suckled him until she was breathless, lifting only to gasp for air as his hand stroked him as a limited replacement. As soon as her lungs would fill he was filling her mouth again. 

Snape found it difficult to remain still. His hips wanted to flex. He longed to hold her head still and fuck her willing mouth until his cock slid into her throat repeatedly, his testicles pressing into her chin as she struggled between wanting air and wanting more. He wished he’d positioned a mirror behind where she kneeled in front of him. She knelt so properly, he was sure from behind she looked primed to be serviced. Her knickers stretched around her knees, her skirt flipped up over her back...he even recalled the pinkness of her pussy lips from before. 

He mouthed a curse as the imagined visual surged his arousal further forward than he’d wanted, teetering on the edge of no return. He tilted her head backwards a little, making her oral descent more visible. Her doe eyes and lips tinged ruby red from his use of them only hurled his pleasure onward. 

Quinn had rested her hands on his thighs as she continued her sexual enterprise. She could feel the muscles rippling and clenching under her touch and she could see by his eyes and slack mouth that he was a man moments away from carnal culmination. Her eyes watered a bit in the corners as she tried under her own power to sink him in further, feeling personal achievement as his jaw clenched and his breath labored. 

“Swallow it,” He seethed through his clenched teeth, unable to completely still his hips, lifting them slightly to aid in her attempt to take him deeper. He could feel her tense as if preparing for the inevitable flood. His fingers tightened in her hair once more, “Swallow.It. All of it,” his command was a sinister, warning direction. 

She’d sampled his salty emission already as generous amounts had leaked on to her tongue, but as his mouth fell open even more, she felt violent pulses from his shaft as her lips tightened around it. He spurted his seed and she let it gather in her cheeks, saving her tongue for its job of gently massaging the throbs from the bottom ridge of his shaft. She was surprised to find that his salty musk was not all that unpleasant, swallowing the generous amount by shifting it into manageable gulps. 

He hissed as the strong release washed over him, his eyes closed to keep as much of his significant reaction hidden - he needed to maintain some authority. His breathing was heavy but steady as he opened them, her lips working themselves away from his shaft with soft, gentle bobs. The ruby red lips parted as she worked to catch her breath, a drop of his seed clinging to the edge of the plump lower lip. 

Snape reached for it, dabbing it with his finger before showing it to her. 

“I said all of it, Collins,” His tone was sharp, but he couldn’t have been more pleased that she stuck out her tongue, letting him slide the droplet along her eager taste buds. His erection was subsiding, but slowly. It still pulsed with the beat of his heart. He unclenched the vial in his hand, holding it out to her, “I believe you earned this,”

“Thank you, Professor,” She didn’t not move from the seductive kneeled position at his feet, “Would you apply it for me? After all, you’re the expert here.” As she spoke she leaned forward so that her moving lips tickled the sensitive tip of his waning cock. 

Snape struggled against the surge of tingles in his loins. He could not let her be aware that she inspired such quick and impulsive arousal in him. 


	10. The Expertise of Potions

**Chapter 10**

Snape sat again in the same chair, facing the fireplace now as its flames sent fiery shadows along the walls. He replayed the moments from this evening in his mind, wondering if he should extract a memory or two to revisit later. He had not intended for this evening to go as far as it had. 

He did enjoy the teasing, holding something over someone, knowing how much they wanted it. He enjoyed dangling temptation just out of reach until the other person was near mad with need. Quinn wasn’t mad, yet. She didn’t ask anything of him or beg. She’d been happy to accept her prize. He couldn’t help but be a little surprised that she didn’t implore him more to return the act. Women usually wanted or insisted reciprocation. He wasn’t entirely sure that he’d have denied her had she repeated her request. He wasn’t entirely sure now that he was pleased with himself having denied her.

Usually at a point, he’d lose interest. A time or two he’d followed through out of boredom. A time or two out of curiosity, to see how far someone was willing to go to win him over. No one had succeeded; he’d surmised he hadn’t much of himself left to give, so he hoarded it from anyone who dared attempt to insert themselves in his life. 

Of course he’d loved once. It had ended, to put it kindly, badly. He did not have any desire to repeat that series of unpleasant events or to allow himself the kind of anguish that emotional attachments caused. Quinn had not looked back once she left, nor looked at him with doey, amourous eyes as she made herself decent. He could tell she had plenty of curiosity but more importantly he noted that she did not pry nor gossip. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quinn spun the vial between her fingers as she lay in bed. Her two roommates snored lightly as the heat stove in the center of the crackled in harmony. She had more privacy now than as a student, but she doubted her bed curtains would seclude her enough to see her to her own orgasmic relief. 

She honestly had very little interest in pleasing herself at the moment. She’d done so many times and while it was pleasurable it wasn’t the awe-inducing release that she experienced while at the mercy of another. In fact, after searching her memory, she doubted any time had been and intensely enjoyable as when she was splayed on Professor Snape’s desk, his fingers pulling her sex open so that she was more exposed than she’d ever been before. 

She would have thought that level of vulnerability would be off putting - and it still seemed as it should be if it were anyone else. This confused her; she didn’t feel particularly close to Snape and he didn’t seem keen to become close with anyone. It wasn’t like he had been a confidant or mentor. Perhaps it was that for so many years he seemed acutely indifferent and now that any level of interest was a phenomenon too keen to not be worth investigating. 

She thought back to the potion instructions and how the margin notes stated that the potion used a bit of the brewer’s own talents when the witch or wizard added a part of themselves to it. She started to wonder if any other bodily emission could suffice and how exactly Snape brewed his own.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Quinn arrived early to his classroom, her cheeks rosy from having rushed from the Herbology lesson she’d assisted with. She wondered if she seemed  _ too _ eager if somehow that would annoy him. She wanted to be just cavalier enough to not raise any suspicion, but curiously interested to want to be taught whatever ‘lesson’ Snape had in mind. She did not dress nearly as brazen - it would have looked suspiciously out of place in the greenhouse and among the 7th years, she might have drawn more than just interested stares. 

She chose to wait down one of the corridors that led to the dungeon, reading through the  Expertise of Potions book that had been delivered to her via owl. The scrawl inside the front cover was not signed, but she knew who it was from. 

_ Every potion from this text must be mastered if Potions instruction should ever be in your future. _

She’d idly thumbed through it in her bed, not once seeing either of the self-pleasuring potions (or any others like it). She wondered where he had stumbled across them or if perhaps he’d created them himself. It was well known that he’d had a propensity for the dark arts - rumors abound that he was in fact a death eater. But Dumbledore trusted him. That was enough for almost any witch or wizard to accept. 

Quinn had been around dark wizards and witches for most of her life, her siblings had molded well into the mindset of their parents. She had always felt like the odd one out, even at an early age. She guessed that’s why she felt so at home in Advanced Potions, surrounded by Slytherins and disdain for her yellow lined robes. It was her norm. 

“I thought I sensed you nearby. Somehow you’re late even though you seem to have found your way to the dungeons.” Snape sounded displeased. Somehow he’d silently approached her.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I arrived too early and didn’t want to disturb you.” She held the book in front of her. His eyes flickered to it quickly, but she knew he noticed. 

“Late is late, Miss Collins, I do not intend to spend what few moments I have of free time waiting on you, is that understood?” His warning was calm, but she knew it was absolute.

“Yes sir,” She bit her lip, unable to quell how insecure he sometimes made her feel. She left her mind open, speaking only in her subconscious, “ _ Perhaps you should punish me properly, _ ” She thought the words and her mind felt fuzzy. She knew he’d seen the though along with the vision she hoped to assume shortly.

Snape’s brow raised as he looked down at her. The vision had been short but vivid. Her hair pulled back in a high pony-tail would provide leverage for him. But she wanted him too much. To give in would be a reward. But to give her what she pictured and leave her desperately wanting; now that would be a punishment.

“After you, Collins,” He stepped to the side as she hesitated. But eventually, she led them back through his classroom to his office, “You would know the best punishment for yourself, would you not?”

“I suppose I would, Professor,” She contemplated, looking around his office. The last time she was punished, his head ended up between her legs. 

“As pleasant as your cunt tastes, Miss Collins, that is far more recompensary than I plan to be,” He smirked as he saw her stiffen and her mind shield itself more securely, “Perhaps I should have had you cut a switch from the whomping willow,” From his desk he pulled an extendable wooden rod that he often smacked against the chalkboards (or across a few knuckles from time to time). Extending it out slowly it became much flimsier; so much so that fully lengthened it was more of a narrow, wooden whip, “I think this will do,”

Quinn gulped as she watched him put the rod out farther and farther. She knew the sound of it. Somehow she’d avoided its wrath in the past, the sound of it smacking against their desks was ingrained in her memory. But it was far better than the few items she’d glanced around the room. A set of fireplace tools and an umbrella. They looked more like blunt force trauma inducing items. 

“Yes, Professor.” She stood still for a moment, moving towards him surprisingly of her own accord. She knew if he’d had to instruct her to approach, his mood just might sour further. 

“How many would you say is appropriate, Miss Collins?” He asked as she stopped at the corner of his desk.

“How many minutes was I late?” She asked, looking for a logical number.

“Twenty-Four,” He enunciated each number and chuckled menacingly as her eyes widened, “Actually it was merely ten minutes, Miss Collins, but I have a sneaking suspicion that ten licks of this rod across that generous backside will only make you beg for more.” His voice seemed to become more sinister as he spoke and she had a feeling he was correct, “But considering that we’ve also lost additional instruction time, I’ll add a few more at my discretion for the inconvenience of your insolence.”

Quinn was fairly sure her panties were soaked through from his verbal beratement.

“Let’s not waste any more time then,” She spoke, a bit mortified with how airy and wispy her own words were. She turned away from him, bending forward. Her hands splayed upon his desk so that she was slightly bent.

Snape stood behind her and she paced her breaths as she felt her skirt hem being lifted and tucked into its own waistband. 

“Is yellow the only color of undergarments you own?” He sounded somewhat bored, but she had an inkling that he secretly liked them. 

“You kept my other pair, sir. Forgive me but I thought you fancied them.” She knew she was being coy and his silence made her feel more sure of it. She gasped as his fist clenched around her pony-tail and tilted her head back, his lips grazing her ear.

“As insolent as you seem to be, I wouldn’t bother wearing them to our lessons. It’ll save time as you clearly need constant correction.” He neglected to mention the main reason he wanted her pantyless in his dungeons. She’d find out soon enough.

“Count each out loud,” he demanded, his long fingers hooking into the elastic band of her panties and pulling them down just enough so they rested below the swell of her ass, “And that you won’t be late again,”

He could already smell her arousal. After he was finished with her, his office would likely smell of it for days. 


	11. The Punishment for Tardiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn's tardiness brings about another interesting subject.

The rod cut through the air with a surprising quickness, the whoosh of it immediately followed by the sharp snap of connection. Quinn yelped a little, her body jerking slightly from the shock of the strike. The piercing sting was evident immediately following the sound, blooming into a rolling burn. With a held breath, she began her count.

“One Professor, I’ll never be late again,” Her tone was stressed and she spoke quickly. So quickly, that her words seemed to run together in a blur.

“Enunciate. I want to hear each word deliberately roll off your tongue.” Snape demonstrated his command with his own words. Quinn’s eyes rolled back a little as her eyelids fluttered closed. She wondered if it were possible for him to speak her into an orgasm with his vocal resonance. 

The next strike landed just above the first. She jumped again, but this time much less so. She bit her bottom lip underneath her top teeth to keep from gasping, whimpering - anything that would suggest she was taking any sort of pleasure from it. She feared if she was not outwardly a model of contrition - he’d cease. She wasn’t sure if this was a game to him or if there was a semblance of sincerity in his request of respectful etiquette. It may have been both, held apart by a razor thin line of separation. 

“Two, Professor, I’ll never keep you waiting again,” She was aware of the slip of her tongue, but only as it left her. 

“That’s better,” he mumbled in disdainful praise. 

“Three Professor,...I’ll never keep you waiting again,” She gritted her jaw to keep from rushing through the words. The fourth, then the 5th made her knees want to buckle as the nerves in her legs prickled. She repeated the preferred mantra, unaware that her voice lowered slightly. 

She felt her fingertips pressing into the desktop, as if trying to grip into the impenetrable grain. Her sex was burning almost as much as the exposed flesh of her arse. She was struggling with trying to remind herself that she was supposed to  _ not _ want this treatment, that it was supposed to deter her from repeating the mistake in the future. 

Snape picked up on her thickening scent in the air, knowing that her carnal enjoyment far outweighed any feelings of remorse. He felt his mouth start to water, remembering the taste of her plentiful nectar. She was nothing special, he could not afford to act with reckless abandon. Not in his position.

“Speak clearly, Collins,” he reminded her sternly as he lay the rod against her again over a fresh, pale welt. 

“Nine Professor, I'll never leave you waiting again,” She strengthened her tone, but groaned at the end of it as once again a burn emanated from the strike and seemed to navigate itself between her thighs. He let the sound of pleasure slide. He felt himself somewhat relaxing, the activity of distributing punishment seemed to ease the tension he seemed to endlessly carry. Another groan came from her on the next strike.

“Mm, Ten, Professor. I promise to  _ never _ keep you waiting again,” she expected another lick, but it did not come. She wondered if he was building up dramatic anticipation for the strikes she earned for his displeasure. She widened her stance and tilted her hips, her ass sitting somehow more perfectly displayed. 

He wondered how much he needed this game. This slow playing, coordinated attempt. He could fuck her now without mercy and she’d thank him for it. He could fill her needy cunt and then spend the rest of the evening training her as an apprentice. It would be an advantageous partnership, but he knew he would bore of it quickly. And as easily as he could transition from a sordid affair to a platonic mentorship, he wasn’t sure she could. 

And if he was being honest with himself, the anticipation was a large portion of the appeal. 

“Sir?” her query stirred him from his mental volley as she peered back at him over her shoulder. 

“Yes, Collins?” He stood unmoving, holding the rod at his side. 

“Aren’t you going to continue?” She glanced back at the orb of her perched arse, unable to see it well, but remembering vividly that he promised her more. 

“I told you that you’d beg for more, didn’t I, you naughty witch?” He spoke with an arrogance that she couldn’t refute, “How many do you deserve?” He challenged her to push her threshold. 

Quinn tried to think as realistically as she could, but her mind was clouded with erotic thoughts that were tough to push to the side. Her freshly abused arse was starting to ache slightly and the last few licks had stung increasingly more. She didn’t necessarily like the pain, but she definitely relished the idea that Snape was the one providing it to her. 

“Three, sir,” She felt as if three was an acceptable challenge for herself without being too generous to either party. The first of the three strikes came without warning and the impulsive gasp and moan that left her removed any question that she was enjoying the attention. 

“Eleven! Professor….two more...please,” She wished she could slip her hand between her thighs and massage her aching nub. She wondered if he’d be displeased that she changed her response. Seeing that these were chosen at her discretion, though, she was likely to say whatever she wished. 

No argument came from him, but he snapped the rod across her again, pushing into her thoughts easily. She likely didn’t even notice - she was distracted enough that he could manipulate her thoughts and she’d be none the wiser. He was amused that she was having similar mental visions of his cock invading her, the freshly injured skin slapping against his pelvis with violent vigor. He thought to quell his response or he’d likely have his own mess to clean up. 

“Twelve, Thank you….professor…” She slowly lifted herself from the desk, a hand instinctively reached back and ran gently over her punished skin. It was warm to the touch and the ridges from the small welts bumped against her fingertips. 

“This leads me to our first apprentice lesson - a healing balm that you might remember from sixth year. While you brewed a simple version of it, it can be strengthened to cure many more ailments, but the solution becomes much more complicated as well,” He collapsed the rod back to its reduced form and laid it on the desk, “Compose yourself and meet me in the classroom with the following ingredients.” He lay a scrap of parchment in front of her as she lifted her yellow knickers gingerly and carefully. 

She straightened her skirt and fanned her flushed face once he had vacated his office. She was nearly moments away from begging to be shagged. She could barely imagine standing next to him for the next few hours, pretending that she wasn’t just half naked in front of him. 

She rolled up her sleeves as she searched his store room, gathering up a variety of glass bottles in the crook of her arm. She knew most of them well, but that did not mean the potion would be simple. If there was one thing she’d learned about potion-making was that it was indeed an art heavily practiced in subtlety that did not respond well to impulsivity or guesswork. She prepared herself to take his direction without question or argument. 

Quinn arranged the vials in the order they were listed on the parchment, preparing her workspace as Snape looked on from a close observation behind her. 

“Very good, Miss Collins,” he spoke, approving of her preliminary actions, “Proceed. If brewed in the correct manner, your arse may be able to sit without a single ache this evening.” he leaned forward, his voice lower but floating directly into her ear, “I, of course, will be administering the concoction to judge its...potency and accuracy,”


	12. A Potion Made More Difficult

It was nearly impossible to pretend he wasn’t looking over her shoulder as she meticulously followed each instruction. She read a few ahead each time as some authors liked to put warnings and suggestions for previous steps much further down the list. It was a counter-productive practice, but it seemed to be a frequent occurrence in potions. She knew to look for it.

Snape did not mutter a word as he looked on. Her concentration was mildly impressive, especially since her backside was likely burning underneath her tweed skirt. His imagination was far less disciplined as it visualized his hands slipping under the skirt to feel the welted results of his discipline. He wanted to see how much outside interference she could withstand before she was robbed of her focus.

Perhaps one day when he could trust her more. Perhaps one day when their level of comfort was enough, he could allow such familiarity. She would have to prove herself that trustworthy.

Quinn hid any of her insecurities well, though she still felt them nag at her. Some of them stemmed only from the fact that he stood by so closely and so authoritatively over her. Advanced Potions II had given her plenty to fret about, but with others in the class, Snape did not hover over any one particular person, gliding about from student to student with the same sneer of disapproval. 

She felt silly, but she wished he would touch her. Though it would ignite an anxiety of another kind, it would quiet the insecurities that were making her needlessly second guess herself. As if his hand resting on her bare bum would somehow bring her ease. She cleared her mind of that thinking though, she didn’t need any distractions. 

The beginning of the potion was as she remembered. The ingredients were familiar and predictable. Wormwood, Dittany as common as any ingredient. The Bobotuber pus was unpleasant, but manageable. She was not a fan of liver in any instance and cutting it was the most difficult part of the potion’s base. It was slippery and was prone to becoming mush if it was handled too long. The potion was a pleasing red; it was usually a Gryffindor favorite. 

She read forward as she let it simmer, rearranging the vials and bottles to bring forth the next swath of ingredients. 

“Do you have any questions before you continue?” Snape asked, his eyes on the length of her legs as they disappeared under the skirt. The potion was perfect, he didn’t need to overlord. He could have easily left her and gone about his business in his office. He had plenty to keep him busy. Perhaps if she didn’t value too much of her free time, he could persuade her to help with the more mundane tasks of instructing - grading essays for example. 

“I don’t, Professor,” She sounded confident, almost too composed.

“This challenge appears to be too simple. Perhaps I could make things more difficult for you,” His tone was almost sinister in warning.

The tingle that crept up her spine brought a curious smile to her lips, but she quickly stifled it. 

“The next section does appear to be quite a bit more involved,” She didn’t look back at him, measuring out powdered thistle root, “However, I’d invite any challenge that you deem necessary.”

It was his chuckle that she didn’t expect, titillated by the thought of what could possibly humor him. The silence in the room made the slight shift of his robes audible as he stepped slightly closer to her. 

“It would be rude, I suppose, to neglect such an invitation.” Snape’s mouth curled into a sinister grin as his wand lifted. Her skirt began to rise, as if an invisible string ran from his wand tip to the hem. As the roundness of her ass appeared to him, he admired the pink lines that ran across it, a few marks criss crossed as if to mark a targeted ‘x’. He definitely hoped that she brewed a perfect concoction. He could spend quite a while sitting at his desk with her bent over in front of him while he worked the potion into her supple backside. Perhaps he’d reward her in another manner.

She cleared her throat as she felt herself being exposed; the coldness of the dungeon air was much more obvious against her still slightly stinging skin. 

“Lovely stance, young lady,” he almost crooned the praise and while it provided a certain sense of giddiness, it felt odd to hear such a genuine compliment from him. She was prepared for the backhanded compliments she’d become accustomed to over the last seven years. But there was no veiled insult, just the anticipation of his impending intention.

“Thank you, sir,” She made sure to acknowledge him. She bit the tip of her tongue as his fingertips were like a whisper against her thigh, trailing upwards and inwards slowly. She wanted to let her mind relax and enjoy the tickling sensation without any concentration. She wanted to be touched and explored. She felt her core throb from the slight touch. But she reigned in her focus, though her breath wasn’t as still. 

She measured out the next serum as his fingers moved to her other thigh. He remained upright, staggered slightly to her right. He still watched her, directly over her shoulder now. His fingers danced a maddeningly distracting waltz that purposefully refrained from stimulating what her body begged for. She didn’t know how she could maintain her focus if he were to do much more, but she wanted it nevertheless. 

He could feel her lean back against his fingers, trying to make his touch more firm. She was still so eager. He had to admit that it made him twitch inside his trousers. He laid his palm against her still somewhat warm cheek. He could feel the slight ridges of his work still raised from her skin. Slowly he rubbed her ass as she held her breath. The strained breath left her as he moved his hand to the other cheek, his palm lightly squeezing the rounded flesh.

She was glad she was at the stirring step, watching the liquid swirl. She was embarrassed by the way her breathing seemed to be out of her control. 

“Alright there, Collins?” He looked downward, his gaze peering down the gap of her blouse, “Too much for you?”

“No, sir,” She answered quickly to give some sense of confidence, but her breathy voice betrayed that confidence.

“And now?” Two of his long fingers slid along a purposeful path between her rounded cheeks, dipping into her slit. It was slick, coating his fingers lightly as they massaged her opening. He could hear the soft pants she tried to conceal from him. Just as she took a breath to answer him, he sunk his fingers in her tunnel and stroked long & slow, his palm cupping behind her. 

It was difficult to discern between the sound of the stirred, thickening potion and his fingers massaging the inside of her sex. Her knees bent slightly, trying to sink his fingers in deeper. 

“Focus Collins,” his hiss was followed by a shimmering fizzle from the cauldron. 

“Yes sir,” She gripped her wooden ladle tighter in her fast as she switched her motion to counter-clockwise, “Gods, yes….Professor,” She reacted as his fingers slid out of her only to massage her aching clit. The potion turned a vibrant, almost glowing red. It almost pulsed with life. She extinguished the flame, moving the cauldron carefully as she allowed it to cool. 

“Finished, Professor,” She hummed as she tried to grind against his fingers, feeling the tingles of a release beginning to build.

“Oh are you?” He paused the stimulation of her sex in jest. Her whimper was audible and her disappointment at the lack of his touch was obvious. He lightly smacked her clit as a reminder to not appear too desperate. Her pussy throbbed, begging for attention. She sucked in a slow, controlled breath through her nose, “I suppose I’ll be the judge of that.”

Though Quinn was a little fuzzy-headed, she stood by. She waited as she always had when he would meticulously inspect her work. The wetness that seeped from her and the draft on her still exposed backside were the only things that reminded her that this moment was much different. She watched as he paused before testing the concoction with his fingers. She could see a sheen on them, her sex still coating them.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded in a low drawl. She did after a moment of indecision, her lips parting as she went slightly slack-jawed, “Wider, Collins,” 

Just as her lips parted enough, his fingers slipped in her mouth.

“Suck them clean,” He instructed. She was surprised into a stupor at first, but soon lapped her tongue over his fingers. She struggled not to gag with their length tickling the back of her tongue. He slowly slid them in and out of her lips. His trousers were quite uncomfortably tight now. His fingers felt the talent of her mouth that his manhood ached for. He smirked smugly as she sucked her own musky, sweet taste from his fingers. 

Pulling them out of her mouth, he dried them by dragging his fingers across her shirt. 

“Very good,” he turned to her potion now, feeling its consistency, inhaling its aroma, and inspecting visually, “Impressive, Collins. I never once imagined I’d be saying such a thing to a Hufflepuff.”

“I’m sure there’s a lot of things you’ve done with me that you’d never thought you’d do to a Hufflepuff,” She quipped, her intensely aroused state making her more brazen.

“You may be right.” He handed the ladle back to her, “Put your potion in the vial and bring it to my office.” He stalked away at an even pace, flicking his wand so her skirt dropped back into place.

“Of course, Professor.” She said so almost too sweetly, wondering if she could earn herself more time with his delightfully punishing whip. 

“And Collins,” he stopped just inside his office, the door partially closed, “I would leave your clothing at the door, if I were you.” He was ought of sight before she could wipe the dumbfounded look from her face.


	13. The Healing Potion

Quinn tried not to let her hands shake as she used a funnel to bottle her work. Compared to the notes she had, the potion was perfect. She didn’t know if she was happy or not that he would use it on her though. She reached underneath her skirt, letting her fingers run over the ridges left behind. She had no doubt in her mind that her backside would look pristine once administered. The positive she took from it was that he would be touching her, intimately at that. 

Maybe she could convince him to do more. She couldn’t deny how many times she’d imagined him fucking her over his desk, making her his fuck toy. He was more experienced and confident in sexual exploration as far as she could tell and she desired to learn anything she could from him. She would much rather learn from someone with knowledge rather than fumbling around with some fool her age who barely knew what to do with himself. 

She funneled all of the brew into several bottles, taking the initiative to do so. She had to assume that was his wish - she had to take some liberties as Snape rarely spoke in great detail. After so many years of dealing with him, she’d come to understand his unspoken expectations.

But the one expectation he had said left a bubbling well of excitement in her belly. He was a model of self control as she’d witnessed. How many grown men would have resisted shagging an of-age witch while she was splayed open, orgasming on his desk? Not many, she assumed. She could not make the assumption though that his intent was to copulate. He clearly was entertained by teasing her and did she ever seem to enjoy it. But the opportunity would exist.

She did take a moment to clean her area and return the ingredients and newly bottled potions to their proper stores. She kept one bottle in her hand, the iridescent swirling red mixture safely inside. She tried to keep her steps as quiet as possible as she approached his office. She sat the bottle on the floor before she loosened her purple and yellow intern-colored tie and began undoing the buttons on her blouse. She kept a wary eye on the door to the hallway dungeon. She hoped it was securely locked with provisionary magic, but she couldn’t be sure of it. Anyone could walk in and find her half naked outside of Snape’s office and then what would be said of her?

The thrill of the risk excited her more than it worried her as she dropped her braissier on top of her already discarded blouse. Her skirt fell to the floor and she stepped out of it, also discarding the tall socks that matched her tie. She wasn’t sure if the shiver that snaked its way through her was from the chill of the stone dungeon or the exhilaration of what may come next.

As she pushed open the door, she snuck in the smallest opening she could manage as if somehow he’d miss a bare naked woman entering the room. A small fire crackled in the fireplace. She thought the dank, cold space may even need the heat well into the summer. Her nipples still stiffened into darkened peaks, though she speculated that was just as much from anticipation as it was the cold. 

Snape’s eyes flitted up only momentarily from the papers on his desk as she walked through the door, closing it behind her quickly. She almost immediately pressed herself back against the wood of the door. Her thighs were pressed together so tightly he wondered if he’d need a vice to pry them open. She looked as if she had no idea what to do with her arms, fidgeting until they were tightly crossed across her belly, her upper arms attempting to cover her exposed breasts. 

He saw the brightness of the red liquid filled bottle in her hand. He took a few moments to complete the marks he was making on the current paper - also to extend the torture of her wait. He laid the parchment to the side and leaned back in his chair, beckoning her towards him with the same two fingers that had just been inside of her.

“Come closer, Collins, I don’t bite,” He jested, but it always sounded so ominous the way his voice droned on, “Unless of course the thought of my teeth sinking into your flesh twists those yellow knickers of yours,”

“Doesn’t seem to be much about you that doesn’t twist my knickers, Professor,” She nearly shuffled towards him. Her bold words contrasted with her timid body language, enough so that his brow raised in surprise. 

“Well, all this time sitting in those twisted knickers must have been very uncomfortable. I should have rid you of them long ago,” he made his gaze slow and obvious as he looked her body over. He wanted her to know she was being visually consumed, “Arms at your side, Miss Collins, it's pointless to attempt to hide yourself from me. If you’ll recall, it was this very spot where I had my mouth full of your delicious cunt, so it will not do to be shy now, will it?”

Quinn had to clear her throat just before she answered.

“No sir, it will not,” She hoped her burning cheeks weren’t any rosier from the embarrassment as they were from the nip in the air. She dropped her arms slowly and unclenched her thighs, he was no stranger to her body. Her reservations were unfounded. 

“Serum,” He held his hand out flat and she placed the bottle in his palm, “Let’s see what the damage is. Stand here,” he directed her to the edge of his desk with a pointed finger, “Bend at your waist and lay your torso flat across the top.”

Quinn stepped forward as directed and took a steadying breath before bending forward. She had to spread her legs apart a little wider to keep her hips from perching to high. 

“It’s almost a pity to heal such exquisite markings,” Snape uncorked the bottle as her pale arse with its pink streaks was presented in front of him, “But, I suppose you will need the ability to sit.” He poured out a palmful of the mixture and generously coated each hand before placing them gently upon each rounded cheek.

She felt almost an instant relief of the lingering sting and an odd tingle that she could guess was lessening the welted marks. She wasn’t sure if she was all that happy to have it removed either, but maybe she could convince him to repeat the punishment as a reward, instead. Maybe he’d fuck her after and everytime her ass would bounce against his pelvis she’d be reminded of the sting.

  
“That’s an interesting thought, Collins,” With her clear lack of intent to shield her mind, he was quite enjoying delving into her impulsive fantasies, “We can consider that a possibility,”

Though she had felt his presence in her mind, being called out on it still made her blush. But the shame didn’t last long as it was replaced by an enjoyable serenity. His hands massaging her backside was the intimate, tangible touch that she’d been craving from him. He kneaded and squeezed each cheek in a mirrored motion, it was very difficult not to move her hips in time with his direction. It was very difficult not to sigh or moan between the relief of the subtle pain being ebbed away and the way he seemed to spread her cheeks apart.

Snape couldn’t help but eye the pink lips that peeked from between her thighs. They were puffed slightly, there was a modest evidence of dampness upon them from the tease of his fingers earlier. Her scent from such a close proximity was palpable and he found it difficult to resist dipping his tongue in her nectar again. 

“Oh Professor,” She said with an airy tone, “That feels so lovely,” She made a concentrated effort to widen her legs more as if that were a silent invitation for him to sample her again. 

“It would again be rude of me to neglect such an obvious invitation,” He growled. His hands spread her cheeks again as his tongue descended on her sex. 

Quinn could not help the gasp that left her suddenly as she felt the muscular tip of his tongue tickle a trail along her labia. She’d ached to feel this again - only this time without the competition of stolen goods. Her hips still moved, gently dragging her swollen bud along the taut, flat side of his tongue.

“Please make me cum, Professor,” Quinn could feel the smouldering in her core, an eruption begging for permission to vent. 

“Beg me for it, Collins,” he hissed, his tongue quickly returning to rapid gentle flicks across her clit. The frenzy hurtled her forward as she was desperate for him to continue.

“Please, sir. Pretty, pretty please, sir, suck my pussy until I cum all over your face,” She whimpered, her hands gripped the edge of his desk tightly. She expected him to still make her wait, to torture her more by dangling her release out of her grasp. She was surprised when his lips latched around her clit and suckled mercilessly. 

“Yes Professor Snape!” She gasped, “Oh Gods, yes...please don’t stop,” She panted as she felt rooted tingles spread throughout her sexy until they peaked in a climax that made her knees weak. Her spasms did not prompt him to ease his stimulation, his hands gripping her arse tightly.

Her taste was somehow more magnificent than he remembered. He savored the sweet musk on his tongue as he finally granted her a reprieve of his oral command. His tongue again trailed along her slight lightly, circling around her entrance before slightly dipping inside of it.

“Wouldn’t you rather something else of yours be inside me?” She asked through her laboring breaths. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, you dirty witch,” He pinched her clit between his fingertips, rolling it lightly. She jumped as he did so, whimpering, “You’d like my cock stuffing you full over and over, wouldn’t you?” He didn’t need to invade her mind to know that.

“Yes, professor, I’ve been dreaming about the cock filling me up,” She looked over her shoulder at him, pleading with her eyes as well as her voice. Her eyes only had to drift down slightly to see his shaft had been pulled from his trousers, his hand slowly stroking, “You look like you want it just as much as I do,” She bit her lip as she challenged his restraint.


	14. Red Handed

“Well then,” His mind was spinning, unable to land on a concrete decision as he stalled, “that may give you an incentive to perform well at our next meeting,”

Quinn could hardly stomach the disappointment and longing that were swirling inside of her that moment. Should she beg? Should she make demands? Should she try coercive persuasion? 

“Is this meeting over?” She said the words plainly, but her breath after still struggled. 

There was a silence that followed, thickening by the second. Quinn hoped that the silence was an indication of his indecision. Perhaps he was struggling himself with restraint. What she would give to feel him plow into her with reckless abandon right now. To feel his anger and lust collide into a motion that would bring her to the zenith of bliss. 

Severus was unsure that he’d made the appropriate decision. And there was little that annoyed him more than ambivalence. 

“Yes, Collins. That will be all for this evening. You may clean yourself up in the loo. It's the door on the right when you enter my rooms. I’m sure you recall it,” 

Quinn slid from his desk and gathered her clothing from the floor. Kneeling to grab them, she paused. Her eyes level with his hips,though he’d concealed himself, she could see that he was indeed denying something that, at least physically, he wanted. 

“Sir, I could take care of that for you,” She stayed kneeling, “It seems rather unfair that you’ve brought me so much pleasure and I’ve yet to reciprocate this evening.” She licked her lips subtly to show her interest.

He lifted a brow as if to question the determination behind her offer. He looked over her poised form. He had no discernable reason to deny himself when she offered herself so willingly.

“Very well,” He stood still as she slid towards him, “However- you will not be allowed the assistance of any potions,” he wanted to know exactly how much the potion mimicked her oral skill. 

Quinn’s hands shook slightly, but she masked their tremble with quick movements. She unfastened his trousers and again licked her lips. She did so more mindlessly as his bulge sprung forth, eager for its freedom. She didn’t let it retain that freedom long, hopeful that her thirst would be quenched enough to clear her mind of its vulgar thoughts. 

\------------------------------------

Walking the halls of Hogwarts after hours still gave Quinn somewhat of a thrill - seven years of being restricted from doing so made her feel like even now, she was breaking the rules. Perhaps the taste Professor Snape left in her mouth was adding to the feeling of delicious indecency. She tried to maintain an air of normality, but she knew there was something to her strut that reflected her increasing sensual confidence. 

She returned to her rooms feeling at least partially satisfied. She readied for bed and relaxed against her pillow. She noticed the stack of ignored letters next to her bed and sighed before taking them into her lap. Many were from friends that were on travels around the world either for their new jobs or for leisure. A few were garbage advertisements. One small letter immediately made her uneasy when she quickly recognized her family’s crest pressed into the green wax seal. 

_ Our dearest Daughter, _   
  
Well that was a change of pace for them. 

_ We are so thrilled that you’ve decided to apprentice under Professor Severus Snape. It is a relief that you’ve finally understood who the appropriate persons are that you should be aligning yourself with. During your first term break we are hosting a dinner party and we would be thrilled if you and your Potions mentor would attend. We would be happy to accommodate him for the weekend and of course your room would be available to you. _

“Wow, how kind to let me use my own room,” Quinn shook her head as she read on, feeling almost as if she were reading a letter from a family she’d never met before. It was as if the family she’d often imagined had materialized and the abusive and dismissive reality from before had dissolved away. 

She was astounded by how fickle her family could be. It was not out of character for them, but this level of about face was even a little much. 

Quinn didn’t dwell on that very long - for now she had a new conundrum - Inviting Severus Snape to accompany her to a party. 

She knew that unless she dressed up the question properly, it would seem as if she were either asking him on a date or even worse, a first date to _meet_ _her parents_. She’d had suspicions that Snape favored a darker magic. He was at least intrigued by it. And she’d noticed in quick, accidental glances that his forearm held a very similar mark that she’d seen on her parents’ arms as well. Snape however seemed to hide it well and with purpose. She didn’t notice that he harbored the same pride in it as her family did. 

She knew very well who and what the mark represented. There was no lack of rumors over whether or not Snape was good or evil with plenty of minds on either side of that fence. But their Headmaster seemed to trust him without question, dismissing the concerns of others. Obviously Dumbledore knew or saw something in him. 

Quinn was beginning to see another side of him as well. His general demeanor towards her had changed and continued to evolve. He at least seemed not to detest her company, nor did she his. She’d spent years dreading Potions only to make her plight worse by excelling. She'd thought to herself many times that she should pretend to be inept in that discipline. But her pride in herself overruled it.

She couldn't very well say she was regretful for her choices. Though confusing, she was very much enjoying her current predicament.

‐-----------------------------

The question hung over her head like a heavy, grey cloud. Just at the moment where she felt the courage to ask, her self-esteem would plummet as she second- and third-guessed herself. She found herself holding her breath and struggling to find a way to let it out so that he was none the wiser. It was hard to get away with much when he hung over her shoulder as much as he did.

Severus noticed that she was preoccupied with something. If she did not choose to bring it up then it wasn't of concern to him. He'd never been one to suffer under the control of curiosity, but he also didn't need his potions lab blown to bits because her mind was elsewhere.

"Where's your head, witch?" he snarled a bit when she inadvertently grabbed powdered dragon root, a lazy mistake that might have cost her that pretty face.

"Professor?" She questioned moments before realizing her own mistake, immediately disappointed with her carelessness. She set it back down, now uncertain about where she even was in the recipe, “I’m sorry,” 

“If you’re no longer interested in this science, I would appreciate you being up front about it rather than half- assing your way through our appointments.” He tested her resolve. 

“If you’re so interested in what’s going on in my head, why don’t you just have a look then,” She failed to reign in her frustration, “It’s not like you’ve ever waiting for my consent before,” She secretly hoped he would, then she would be spared the awkwardness of having to ask him. 

Severus left his expression blank, but he was surprised by her curt attitude. And even more surprising, he was attracted to it. Demure and weak witches had their allure, but they often were like shagging a dead fish. Quinn had much more of a spark in general, but she’d never talked back to him like this. He wanted to push her more to see how well she could handle adversity. 

“If our arrangement has soured for you, Miss Collins, you are certainly free to leave any time you choose,” He took a step back from her, extinguishing the flame under her cauldron with a flick of his wand. 

Quinn huffed, the hope of finally having him inside of her extinguished just as the flame below her failed potion. She felt like throwing herself a pity party, but knew that Severus would not allow her to do so in his presence. 

“I’m just distracted, Professor,” she admitted. 

“Would you like to tell me what’s troubling you?” Severus offered. He sounded almost uncertain. He was unused to offering comfort in this way and it felt odd to extend it, “Are your half-wit parents being a bother?”

Quinn, bewildered by his statement, turned around and met his gaze with a shocked one of her own. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I’ve known them for years and it's a miracle that you have any competency at all if that’s the stock from whence you came. It doesn’t take any sort of genius to see that you are infinitely more talented and intelligent.” Severus could see his complimentary speech was easing her from her defensive mood. 

“Thank you, sir,” She felt unsure of how to properly answer him. She was only used to receiving compliments with his smug face buried between her legs. What she wouldn’t give for him to just shag her already, “Can I start this lesson over?” She felt somewhat renewed in confidence. 

“It’s late. And it seems you have exhausted your hour,” Severus motioned toward the hourglass that was nearly spent next to her cauldron. He resisted the urge to show her leniency when her shoulders dropped again. He could let himself become too charitable. After all, it seemed to be his dark and brusque persona that seemed to draw her attraction. 

“Of course, Professor,” She gathered up the various bottles and returned them to the store room, arranging them exactly how she’d retrieved them earlier, “By the way, the wormwood is about to seed in the greenhouse. Professor Sprout said I should see if you have anything to trade.” 

Severus’s ears perked up. He had a need for wormwood seed pods, but not necessarily anything to offer in return. But Quinn didn’t need to know that.

“I don’t believe I will be requiring that particular herb at the moment.” He strode to the doorway of the store room, watching as she stood atop the ladder. It was a dimly lit room and the shadows did their best to conceal her, but he was quite sure she had forgone knickers,  _ Bloody witch,  _ he thought to himself.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Severus felt more than frustrated after she left. The lack of sexual tension in the evening left him craving it. He almost resented her for not being the horny little witch he’d come to expect her to be. He’d made no concrete decision, but the possibility of finally giving into her had existed. He started into his fireplace, becoming more cross by the minute. Perhaps he could walk off his unexpended energy. 

He could always take a detour to the greenhouse and pilfer what he needed. It was no secret that many of the professors and teachers skimmed the greenhouse when needed. Sprout was either none-the-wiser or too feeble to speak up. He never took an indecent quantity, but it was still thievery.

The greenhouse was dark. He did not light the tip of his wand to conceal his presence even more. He crept around the potted plants, careful to avoid the mandrakes. One spilt pot could be damning. Finding the wormwood, he tenderly felt the plants, selecting the most new and tender pods and gently plucking them. 

“Professor?” Quinn called from behind him, and though her tone was quiet, she startled him.

“Bloody hell. Collins!” He hissed, feeling his heart nearly jump into his throat, “How in Merlin’s name did you-”

“I placed a Security charm on the greenhouse,” She explained, “It alerts me to any intruders. There have been….issues with thieves before. I have to say I’m surprised at you.” She did not grin, but she was extremely amused at the situation they now found themselves in. “I could have done that for you…you know,” She motioned the tip of her lit wand towards the plants, “I could have snuck a few if you’d have just said something. Some of us don’t have the power to read minds as easily as you,” 

“Well...what happens now, Collins?” He asked, unable to read her expression in the dim light. She couldn’t resist a smirk now.

“Well Professor, I suppose that depends on what you can do for me.” 


	15. Let the Punishment Fit the Crime

The small office nestled in the corner of the greenhouse normally housed the catalogs of seeds and parchments of care instructions. Severus followed Quinn into the room, seeing that it had been enchanted into a cozy nook of a bedroom. The glass panes of windows shimmered with a charm that likely blocked the view from outside, but not inside. He wondered how long she’d watched him before approaching. 

Perhaps she already knew what she wanted and was toying with him.

“And what use of me do you expect to make here?” he questioned, feeling quite a bit less in charge than he did surrounded by his own comforting and safe space. He did not feel intimidated, but he understood that the teetering balance of power had shifted, “I assumed apprentices were given better quarters,” 

“I haven’t completely decided,” She invited him to sit in a plush chair across from her bed, a short distance, “And this is just while I am on watch. Normally I shared a space with two others. Tea?” 

Quinn approached the already steaming kettle sitting over a small burner. She poured herself a small cup, pausing before pouring another. 

“No, that is not necessary. A cup this late may keep me up all evening.” He held up his hand in polite refusal. 

“Well maybe that’s my plan.” She poured it anyway and walked it over to him. She held it in front of her while his eyes gazed at her curiously. Being coy and a tease was one thing, but to maintain a sense of control over an entire evening was quite another. He did not believe her confidence would carry her that far yet, “Relax, sir, it's my own special ‘evening blend’. I brew it to relax.” 

He glanced at the steaming liquid and back to her face before reaching up to slowly take the cup. 

“Forgive my caution, but considering our activities, surely you can understand such reticence.” He drawled, before sipping. He did so only after she drank some herself as she sat crossed legged on her temporary bed.

“You think I would knock you out and then have my way with you? What fun would that be?” She grinned. It wasn’t that she hadn’t imagined such a thing in a moment of self-gratification. She kept his curious mind-probing at bay - the distance between them weakened his attempts, but she had also learned well how to strengthen her guard, “I have toys and charms for that,”

His cocked eyebrow showed his piqued interest. She couldn’t help but smirk. 

“We could do this dance all night, Collins. What do you want with me?” His blunt question made her confidence falter slightly and he was pleased. 

“Do you really have to ask?” She cocked her head to the side, “I’ve been dying for you to fuck me...but I suppose this is supposed to be a punishment…” She looked more contemplative now. Snape kept his calm demeanor, but he wondered if he hadn’t undersold her deviancy, “Maybe something else is in order. Remove your robe… and take off those trousers, Professor,” 

He attempted to penetrate her mind and once again was denied. She stood at the edge of her bed, unbuttoning the shirt of her pajamas. He watched her for a few moments, the shirt opening as the curve of her breasts became more and more visible until they were uncovered completely. He was slow, but he reached for the clasp of his trousers, unbuttoning them and slowly lowering the zipper before standing. He stepped out of his shoes as well, letting his pants fall to the floor. 

Quinn slowly untied the bow that cinched her pajama pants around her hips, watching as his pale, hairy legs came into view. Making him undress felt immediately more intimate than many of their previous interactions.

“Boxers as well,” She instructed, letting her own pants fall as he worked himself even more bare. She looked him over, knowing that his eyes were taking her in as well. He was still somewhat flaccid, but that was changing quickly, “Why don’t you just take everything off,” She smirked as he sighed heavily. He wanted to argue, she could feel it. 

Even though he was cross, he followed her instruction again. He stood as bare as she was. He did not like to be so openly exposed, his forearm turned away from her. She grabbed a bottle that sat on a shelf next to her bed. He knew that vial. She approached him slowly. 

“Sit,” She said, pointing downward, “Do you want to touch me, Professor?” She toyed with him, stepping between his open knees. 

“Yes,” he answered calmly, “Your body is striking and would be difficult for any man to resist.”

Quinn’s sex was throbbing with a desperate ache now. In the moment she’d worked herself up far more than she’d intended. She new with each pulse of her heartbeat her sex was dampening and if she didn’t do something about it soon it woulddrip to her thighs. 

“I see your little friend agrees with you,” She peered down at his growing member, “Though he doesn’t seem to be quite so little any more. Why don’t you try a few drops of this,” She handed him the potion that had been shared between them so often. She wanted to apply it herself, but she intended on punishing him and to be consoled by her intimate touch seemed far more a reward. 

Severus took the vial and slowly dripped its contents in a stream directly on the exposed underside of his shaft as it rested against his lower torso. He then gripped himself, slowly spreading the potion onto his rigid sex, the vieny foreskin absorbing it. 

“Now… all fours…” She pointed towards the floor now and his already black eyes narrowed at her, “If you will,  _ Professor. _ And no more touching yourself,” 

Severus could feel the subtle nuances of her tongue bathing his cock already, so his hand loosened. He growled in his chest, but slipped off of the chair to his knees. He made his annoyance no secret with the breath that left him

Quinn hid her nervousness well as she sat in the chair that he had just vacated. She lay her legs open, each over an arm of the chair, before curling her finger towards him. He traced her slit softly with the tip of his tongue as a soft, contented sigh left her. 

“Mmm, yes, Severus...just like that, soft and slow.” She’d never had him be so gentle with her. Usually by the time he’d touch her, she was already crazed with lust. To have him take his time and use his physical nature to inflame her was a fantasy that she was more than pleased to have a reality. 

Severus closed his eyes as he slowly licked her sex. She was wet when he started, so it was clear now that she didn’t need all the build up he’d been employing to be aroused by him. His mind spun with trying to enact a plausible scheme where he’d be sinking his cock into this evening. What ways could he convince her that she still would have the upperhand while he finally defiled her. He felt somewhat foolish for not having done so already. 

His tongue worked a little faster and a little more intensely as the  _ botanica incitamentum  _ went to work on him. His cock twitched and throbbed as an invisible warmth enveloped him and an invisible force tugged at his heavy, hanging sack. He imagined feeling these sensations while buried inside of her. He slipped his fingers into her primed hole, hoping Quinn would beg for more. And this time he would gladly satisfy her.

“I bet you’d love to fuck me now, wouldn’t you?” She asked in a breathless tone. Her hands rested against his head, tenderly stroking his raven locks as she felt a tingle spreading, “I bet you’re dying to get inside of me,” She had to admit, she was punishing herself in this moment too, “I know what that potion is doing to you…”

Severus did not answer, his groin was clenching, wishing that more than air was surrounding his shaft. The effects were growing stronger and it transferred to his own actions. His forearm burned a little as he sunk his fingers into her more quickly, her slickness increasing. Hearing her pant and feeling her sex quivering he knew she was close. His own loins were starting to burn and he instantly knew his own release was closing in just as quickly. 

Her hands pressed firmly against his head as she forced his face against her sex, squealing a little as she came. She bit her lip, knowing that her silencing charm could only work so well on these glass walls. His fingers did not stop their rapid assault.

“I want to watch you cum,” She whispered, “Without you touching yourself.”

He had known that was what she’d say - it was the most likely punishment given her behavior so far, but he was none-the-less more than disappointed. 

“Stand up on your knees.” She said, pushing his head away from her soaked slit. She gently circled her clit with her own fingers, still very much on display as he stood on his knees in front of her. His breaths were heavy and his cock pulsing. She noticed the deepening purple of his swollen glans as he looked from it to her self-stimulation.

He pursed his lips, looking almost dejectedly at her. A crimson rose in his cheeks and chest as his shaft became impossibly rigid and spewed his seed into the open air. A splotch landed on his stomach, some on the floor and the rest dribbled down the length of his sex.

“Bravo,” Quinn giggled a bit as she watched, clapping a few times, “That was quite the show, professor.”

“I’m satisfied that you found it amusing,” He tried to ignore the nagging invisible sensations that still plagued his shaft. 

“I wouldn’t say amusing, perhaps entertaining. Yes, entertaining,” She knew only one thing would satiate the potion though and was enjoying watching him fight another erection, “Now, about that favor…”

“Favor?!” He became exasperated, having reached his moment of weakness, “I believe I have already satisfied that debt, Collins.”   
  


“Oh this?” She tilted the small vial in her hand, “This was just for fun, I never said anything about it making us even,” 

Severus was startled, annoyed, and aroused all in the same moment. She was more a clever witch than he gave her credit for. 

“Well then would you mind?” He motioned towards his once against straining member, “I prefer to hear favors with clear thoughts,” She couldn’t deny her amusement now, it was clearly written on her face. She was soon the one on all fours and as she neared him, his hand grabbed her face, cradling her chin and slightly squeezing her cheeks, “Spit on it, Miss Collins. A moment inside your mouth will do little to clear my head.”

He spread her saliva over himself, retreating from any further stimulation at her behest. The potion diluted and lessened quickly. Quinn only cinched her robe around her otherwise naked body as he redressed. 

“Get on with it,” He scoffed and he buttoned the cuffs of his sleeves, “What’s this ever important favor?”


End file.
